If This Should be the Final Year              

If This Should be the Final Year

The old man sat comfortably on the park bench and thought, quite peacefully, of what may well be his final year. He had lived his ninety years. As a child he had wild fantasies of flying a car that turned into a plane.  As a young man he has seen, in his imagination, the visions of a future filled with high drama and effecting change in his world. As an old man he dreamed dreams about what was and what might have been.

Now he wanted what might be his final year, not knowing when that would be, to be the year of completion of the long journey. No one was listening, so he spoke to himself and to the unknown spirits around him, to the trees and to the singing birds.

“In this, my final year, I will resolve all the unfinished and unsettled relationship issues with people with whom I have crossed paths. I will forgive people who I feel wronged by, and I will ask forgiveness from all the individuals I have hurt. I will carefully repair relationships where this is possible.

“I will be an instrument of peace and reconciliation.

“In this, my final year, I will nurture loving relationships with old and new friends.  Our conversations will be purposeful and growth producing.

“In this, my final year, I will thoughtfully resolve unfinished conflicts within myself as they come to my awareness.

“In this, my final year, I will think and act creatively and lovingly, and with that bring joy to myself and individuals I meet.

“In this, my final year, I will love my mysterious Creator and other people as I love myself.”

The wind rustled the leaves of the trees, the birds sang, and the children of the new generation played and laughed.

All was at peace.

  1. Rita

    That was so captivating. I can envision you sitting on a bench, pondering, and reflecting.
    Thanks for painting such a clear picture.

  2. Leona

    Dear Mr. Regehr,
    Your niece, Lorie has introduced me to your blog which I am throughly enjoying . We have been friends since our school days in grade 11when we lived just off Henderson Highway in East Kildonan. I began writing in earnest five years ago. Hopefully I will complete the memoir before my last year! ❤️ Leona Hiebert Rew

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *