Thinking through my life, I am having a hard time putting my finger on what I have not done in my life that I have WANTED to do. Ok, ok – I have not traveled the world, I have not climbed a mountain, or had my five minutes of fame: but those aren’t things that REALLY matter to me. I will go on, living my life, without those things – and be perfectly fine. So I have been wracking my brain trying to think of something that I have Truly wanted to do in my life, that I have not done yet.
I can also go on to think about all the things that I have not done in my life because… I don’t want to do them: Skydiving (yikes!), eating exotic foods, scuba diving (I’m crazy scared of fish), and pretty much most things that you would see on Fear Factor.
So getting back to something that I have truly wanted to do in my life, but just haven’t done yet, would definitely have to revolve around my family. So I thought about something that I would regret not doing if I was to die today. Bear with me.
Before we had kids, my husband and I went on many more dates. We always tried to do something new together: something engaging and fun. He had been trying to get me to go golfing with him for some time but the only kind of golfing I had ever done was Mini-Golf. So we decided that we were going to go to a golf course driving range to practice our swing, so that on our next date, I would know how to hit the ball. First, my husband gave me a quick lesson on how to hold the club, and showed me what it looked like to swing. Then I stood next to him so I could imitate his moves. This is where it all went wrong. He did his back-swing, and hit me real good right on the top of my head. I immediately hollered ‘You Dork!!’ and right then decided that I was going to be a good sport for him and keep playing even though it hurt really bad. This was his dream date with me for quite some time, so we went on, in separate lanes. A minute or two later, (making sure he wasn’t looking) I put my hand up on my head to ‘comfort’ the pain – but my hand was soaking wet. I was bleeding! SO. We gave our balls to another guy on the driving range, and left. I was crying – halfway because I was sad that I wasn’t able to be a good sport any more, and the other half – because I was worried that I was going to have to get my precious hair shaved in order to get stitches…
I have not been a good sport about trying golf again. Even though we NOW KNOW that we’re not supposed to stand next to each other, and I would highly doubt that my head would ever get hit with a 9 iron again. So One thing I haven’t done in my life, and would regret not doing – and would still love to do – is go golfing with my husband.