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The Big Question: Tell It To My Heart Edition | Manolo for the Big Girl

The Big Question: Tell It To My Heart Edition

That’s right. I went there, and if there is any justice in the world all of you will have a righteous Taylor Dane earworm for the rest of the day.

As you might have ascertained, things have not been peachy in the land of Plum, and it’s made me do some Serious Personal Introspection (should I have had those pink d’orsays made in elaphe instead of watersnake? Should I tell my grandma that the rubber thing her dog plays with is NOT the sort of toy available at PetSmart?) so I’m sharing the wealth with you.

We all hold onto things that ought to be said and say things that perhaps upon further reflection –by which I mean several cups of coffee, a cold shower and perhaps a quick prayer to the porcelain god– might have been better left unsaid.

For today’s Big Question, Plumcake wants to know:

If the person you love most in the world died today, what would you regret not telling them?

17 Responses to “The Big Question: Tell It To My Heart Edition”

  1. Peaches October 16, 2008 at 6:20 am #

    Not a thing. I tell him how much he means to me so often that he floats.
    But I swear I’ll want to kill him if he goes first.

  2. aliki October 16, 2008 at 6:59 am #

    WAIT! Everything is still possible.

  3. Jane October 16, 2008 at 8:15 am #

    Right now, my love life being what it is, the person I love best in the world is my dad, and I have told him I love him and am grateful to have him in my life, especially in a world where so many people have horrible dads. But you offer a good reminder. I think I’ll tell him again.

  4. Katzchen October 16, 2008 at 10:04 am #

    I still regret not telling my nana thank you for all the encouragement and inspiration she gave to me.

    At this point, I’d want to tell my dad that I love him, that I forgive him for not always understanding me, that I know he loves me more than anything in the world, and that he always has been, and always will be, the most important man in my life.

    I think I’ll call him tonight.

  5. marjorie October 16, 2008 at 11:29 am #

    i’m sorry for what you’re going through, plumcake.

    i lost my dad 4 years ago, when i was 8 months pregnant. we named the baby after him. he was not himself before he died — he was irrational and angry and anxious and difficult — but i did say “i love you” before he died, and i know he KNEW i loved him. and in the years since then, i have mostly forgotten the person he was when he died and remember the best things about who he was for many years before that.

    in some ways i think PROCESSING is overrated. my dad couldn’t help who he was at the end. i’m just so glad i got the chance to say “i love you”…and i wish everyone that much.

  6. RHCD October 16, 2008 at 12:14 pm #

    The person I love the most I tell him all the time how much I love him, how proud of him I am… I do need to tell the other important (#2-5) people just how much they mean to me, how much they’ve shaped me, how much I value their opinions and insight. The person who I’m likely have the hardest time with is my mom. We still have an incredibly complicated and difficult relationship and I know I’m not giving what I could be giving.

  7. B October 16, 2008 at 12:22 pm #

    How complicated my love is, how selfish I am. How I daily wish I could love him better, but something in me can’t. My heart bursts when he comes through the door after work. If he died today, he knows I love him, a diligent, workmanlike love. He’s just never experienced how exuberant I actually feel. I don’t want to tell him something, I want to live something more with him.

  8. Twistie October 16, 2008 at 1:41 pm #

    Knowing the last thing either of my parents heard me say was that I loved them has made me resolve to be just as open with the other people I love. It cuts like a knife knowing I lost two such wonderful people too damn early, but it salves the wound a little knowing that they both knew how I felt about them.

    More and more as the years go by, I realize that it’s not the stupid things we did that we regret the most, but the stupid things left undone and the warm words left unspoken. Because of that, I’ve resolved to do more foolish things and say what’s in my heart a lot more often.

    Chin up, Plumcake. You’re definitely loved. Fracesca, you’re loved, too.

  9. Twistie October 16, 2008 at 1:42 pm #

    Er…Francesca might feel more loved if I spelled her name correctly.

    (looks all sheepish ‘n’ stuff)

  10. Rosa October 16, 2008 at 2:34 pm #

    Plumcake,

    I’m so sorry for what you’re going through – it is always wrenching. I still cry 10 years later about losing both of grandmothers to whom I was very close, and wish I had been focused and mature enough at the time to tell them how profoundly they had influenced me, how safe but sometimes sad their overflowing but often critical love made me, and how grateful I was to them for giving me every opportunity they never had. That said, while I tell the person I love most deeply in the world – my small son – constantly what he means to me, I think it much easier to have uncomplicated feelings for a child. It is still hard to express my full feelings to my loving but difficult parents or my wonderful but demanding spouse. And yet they do know how I feel, and how much I love them, just as I am sure the person you love so much also knows how precious he or she is to you.

  11. C... October 16, 2008 at 7:31 pm #

    Every time I helped my mother out of bed or a chair, an act that took both my arms and a good deal of both our strengths, we ended the effort in a long and great hug. Better than words. I remember those hugs more fondly than anything we spoke about. I was the last one to see her conscious before the end–although none of us knew that would be the end. The last thing spoken…I cracked a joke (I inherited my goofballiness from her), she smiled her last smile, and went to sleep. She slipped away two days later. I am satisfied with that last exchange; I gave her a hug and made her smile. There is something to be said (or unsaid) for the unspoken expressions of love and closeness.

  12. Chaser October 17, 2008 at 9:31 am #

    I would say: “You’ve done everything right by me, and I love you for it.”

    Sorry, Plumcake.

  13. Rachael October 17, 2008 at 10:00 am #

    I love you so much.

    It’s not something my family says very well.

  14. Cat October 17, 2008 at 11:50 am #

    The person I loved most in the world (my brother) died almost nine years ago. Hard to believe it’s been that long. We didn’t leave anything left unsaid, but his death was so sudden and unexpected that I do wish I’d had the chance to tell him one more time how much he meant to me.

    Hugs to you, Plumcake.

  15. ChaChaHeels October 19, 2008 at 10:23 am #

    I’m so sorry to hear about your loss, Plumcake.

    I lost my mother almost a month ago. I realize now that for a long time, I was really angry at her, for things she really had no power to change: we weren’t very close as mother and daughter until she reached her 80’s, and I saw her often. I always told her I loved her and hugged her whenever I saw her–things we never did when I was a child. But I wish I’d let her know I was wrong to be angry.

  16. sara a. October 21, 2008 at 12:32 pm #

    The thing that I’ve always regretted is that I didn’t go see my grandmother a few days before she died because I had just seen her the week before. She was really far gone and it was hard to see her in that state, but I wish now that I had gone to see her and sing for her and told her I loved her one last time. Now it is very hard to remember her as she was during my childhood, and I only remember her as she was during my teens as she was struggling to die. I want to remember the funny, fun-loving woman who always had time and not this sad person who couldn’t talk or walk or anything.

  17. raincoaster October 21, 2008 at 11:26 pm #

    This post has special resonance for me, because my grandmother has just been diagnosed with a fatal problem. When I phoned her yesterday, I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just said that I loved her and will tell her the same thing tomorrow, if I’m lucky enough to have the chance.