Last updated on August 11, 2026
“I wished I had asked, before it was too late.” How many of us have heard this? How many of us have said this? How many of us feel this but have never expressed it?
I felt this regret the year I plunged into family genealogy. As I researched my family’s history, tantalizing clues emerged that led me to want to uncover details about their lives – details that could only be found in the genealogical gold of my parents’ and grandparents’ personal memories. I waited too long and it was my own fault.
Popular culture often praises people who claim to have no regrets. Yet, Brené Brown, who has spent the past two decades studying courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy, states living with “no regrets” doesn’t mean living with courage, it means living without reflection. In Atlas of the Heart, Brené writes:
I firmly believe that regret is one of our most powerful emotional reminders that reflection, change, and growth are necessary. In our research, regret emerged as a function of empathy. And when used constructively, it’s a call to courage and a path toward wisdom.1
In other words, own and acknowledge your regrets and you’ll be in good company. When I looked into my particular regret, I found a lot of company! Listen to almost anyone speak at length about their departed parents and grandparents. Sooner or later, the “I wish I had asked” regret will come out. Speak about that regret yourself and chances are good your conversational companion will relate the same back to you. It’s common, so common that it’s a regular occurrence on ITV’s Who Do You Think You Are. In one striking episode, television presenter Kate Humble discovers that her grandfather, Bill Humble, served as a test pilot for Hawkers’ “Tempest” airplane during World War II, which ended up being deployed during the Battle of Britain. Thanks to her grandfather’s bravery in risking his life as a test pilot, the Tempest served as the only plane fast enough to shoot down Hitler’s dreaded V1 flying bombs, saving thousands of lives. Kate’s discovery of her grandfather’s bravery and dedication profoundly moved her. At the end, she says:
“In a funny sort of way, he ceased just to be my grandfather. He’s become a larger than life figure in his own right – this extraordinary man and it happens that I’m related to him. But, I don’t just see him as a relation any more, I suppose. I see this man who had an extraordinary life and a very, very funny turn of phrase. And he’s brilliant and… (crying) of course I want him to be alive now so I can tell him. Now, I feel frustrated. I feel ashamed of myself that, that I, that I haven’t made more of an effort to find out about him. You know, I feel I should have done. You know, meeting people today at the museum – “Wow, you’re related to Bill Humble!” – And I don’t kind of feel like I deserve to be because I never bothered to find out what an amazing person he was. What he was doing was really meaningful and that’s a proper legacy.” 2
Kate Humble expressed genuine, meaningful regret that brought her to tears, well past any emotional control she could have engaged as a seasoned television presenter. I was impressed by her bravery in showing vulnerability in front of the camera. She owned her own regret, a far cry from our modern-day culture’s idolization of people who claim to have none.
I can relate. When my mother passed away, I was determined to give her a proper memorial to honor her long life. I pieced together a presentation of photographs of her and my father during their five-year long-distance courtship and realized I had never taken the time to get to know who they were as young people. Their story was more remarkable than I imagined. By uncovering the details of their courtship in the midst of World War II – the longing, the love, the hope – all became apparent in their expressions in the photographs. In their wedding photograph, I could see in their faces the joy of reunion and profound gratitude of having survived the war to start a life together in America.
The photo below is of our wedding album, cherished memories from an important event in our lives. After 35 years, our marriage is stronger and more vital than ever. But, the wedding album is coming apart at the seams. Will our grandchildren inherit this album? Will they look at it? Will they take the time to look beyond the photos and understand our story? Will they understand our courtship? Will they recognize the depth of love and gratitude we have for each other in our faces in the now obsolete analog prints? Will they take the falling apart album at face value?
I became motivated to share all of our stories with our daughter and grandchildren. I wanted them to know better who their ancestors were. I wanted them to know better who we were, beyond just being “Grandma and Grandpa,” the older generation in their family. But, I was disappointed. They showed so little interest, the only way I could get them to sit and listen to a story was to request it as a personal birthday gift.
Then at a gathering of peers to discuss aging, many of us grandparents, I shared my disappointment of our progeny’s lack of interest. A friend asked, “We’re you interested at their age?” Looking back to when my parents were my age, I had to admit I wasn’t. Not only that. I realized it was unreasonable for me to expect our children and grandchildren would want to know more about us. True, we do live in a time when the life experiences of seniors are being dismissed as “part of the past,” meaning a past which must change if not be abandoned. But, I believe it goes deeper. Several seniors in our group also admitted to not having shown interest in asking their parents about their lives.
I had slammed into it. I had come face to face with the generational cycle of regret of waiting too long to ask – a cycle I had willingly participated in myself. I asked, “How do we break the cycle?” An astute woman in the group answered, “Write it down!”
I experienced an epiphany that day. As the elders of the family in the modern world of required 50-hour work weeks, we can’t expect our children and grandchildren to ask us about our lives. Now, more than years ago when elders were looked to for their experience, our children and grandchildren will inevitably wait until it’s too late. It’s up to us to preserve our family’s history, including our own, in some form that will be there for them when their regret strikes. Writers refer to it as Legacy Journaling, the creation of a documentation of your life specifically for your own surviving family.
Here’s the catch. To write a good legacy journal, one has to be comfortable with one’s own mortality. I’m finding working on it evokes in me a feeling of “looking back on my life” as a final act before death, even though we will likely have many more years together. Equally important, to effectively create a legacy journal, one has to free oneself from the troubles of the world. In a modern world of constant bombardment of online media, this is more easily said than done.
We encountered a perfect illustration of the idea of releasing caring about the outcome of the world in an episode of the Crown in 2022. In the episode, the Queen has discovered that her cousin, Lord Mountbatten, entertained instigating a coup to remove the Labour Government. She dressed him down and told him he could do more for his country by visiting his ailing sister, Princess Alice of Greece. He does and the scene goes like this:
Princess Alice looks up when her brother, Lord Mountbatten, enters the room. She smiles.
“Nice of you to find the time.”
“These days, I’ve nothing but time – and too little time,” he responds.
He picks up a childhood photograph on her night table.
“Hmm… The four of us.”
“What?”
Mountbatten shows her the photo, saying louder, “The four of us. Look at us now. Only two left.”
“You’re left. Not me. I’m on the way out.”
“Nonsense!”
Alice becomes pensive.
“There came a moment around the time I turned 70 when it dawned on me that I was no longer a participant, rather a spectator.”
Mountbatten interjects, “I’ve discovered that for myself!”
Alice continues, “And it’s just a matter of waiting and not getting in the way.
I hear you’ve been getting in the way.”
“Who told you that?”
Alice (chuckling): “There are no secrets in this place. Did you get a dressing down from our dowdy queen?”
“Yes, I did.”
Alice laughs out loud.
“Oh, what’s so funny?”
“Well, it’s funny – the little girl admonishing the grand old admiral of the fleet.”
“Well, I’m glad it amuses you. Because the situation this country is facing is anything but amusing.”
Alice, changing her tone, “Oh… Who cares, honestly? One of the few joys of being as old as we both are is that it’s not our problem.” 3
Of course, the conversation between Mountbatten and Princess Alice is speculation. Nonetheless, it provided us with a needed dose of reality. If we’re ever going to enjoy our remaining years together, we have to cultivate not worrying about what happens to the world. Becoming a senior is inherently doses of many realities. We stay active, keep our flexibility and strength up, eat a healthy diet. But, we do it not to preserve youth but to keep ourselves from slipping into a myriad of chronic conditions which could make our last decades unbearable. Reach age 70 and you will perceive it. Count what’s left – the Christmas holidays, the family Thanksgivings, the Spring walks in a garden, the annual vacations. If you’re really lucky, you have 20 of each left 4. Every waking moment becomes incredibly precious. Every hour you spend with a beloved spouse becomes priceless beyond measure. Princess Alice’s “one of the few joys of being old” has become an iconic reminder to not squander the time and energy we have left “tilting at windmills.” We now regularly talk to each other about “doing a Princess Alice.”
Unfortunately, we now live in a world in which extreme political and ideological doctrine has invaded personal life. Dr. Karl Pillemer’s new book, Fault Lines: Fractured Families and How to Mend Them, documents the surprising prevalence of estrangement for the first time. Conducting the first large-scale national survey on the subject, Pillemer found that 27% of Americans 18 and older had cut off contact with a family member, most of whom reported that they were upset by such a rift. That translates to at least 67 million people nationally – likely an underestimate, Pillemer said, since some are reluctant to acknowledge the problem.5
Among our friends who are also grandparents, we now know some who’ve been denied access to seeing their own grandchildren. It’s a cruel unwarranted act that has been done to people whom we know are not abusers. Being denied access to one’s grandchildren late in life is, as Dr. Suzanne Degges-White writes in Psychology Today, “a loss unlike any other.” 6 Every missed holiday and grandchild’s birthday represents another precious family gathering in that grandparent’s life that’s lost. Every year it continues increases the likelihood grandparents will die without ever having seen their grandchildren again. According to Dr. Joshua Coleman, who writes extensively on family estrangement:
“Politics are increasingly becoming a cause of estrangement. I read one study that said that something like 1/3 of families have become estranged over political differences. And that’s important because politics have become such a powerful defining factor of identity—e.g. who is my tribe and who isn’t my tribe. The fact that this extends to families is relatively new. 20 years ago, people weren’t getting estranged or even having that much conflict about political differences, whereas today, they do.” 7
Political tribalism has invaded personal family life. For people in their later years, estrangement over their own beliefs is nothing short of heartbreaking. They have perhaps not voted for the candidate their adult children find acceptable. Perhaps they have not agreed to ascribe to their adult children’s ideological beliefs. Regardless of the reason, tribal culture demands that all must conform to the acceptable narrative of the tribe and those who don’t, even if family, must be forced to ascribe “by any means necessary” or be excluded. Denying access to grandchildren is one of the cruelest acts an adult child can do to a parent. Yet, this is the very thing institutions and agencies are now counseling adult children to do to family members who do not agree to the acceptable ideological prescription.
I cannot speak for all of my contemporaries, now in their senior years. But I suspect many will relate to this simple request of our progeny and their peers. Don’t try to “reform” us. Please, leave us in peace with our beliefs so we can savor the precious time we have left.
Ultimately, we as seniors have little influence over how we are treated by our families. We cannot expect to have a voice in a popular culture that dismisses the elderly as not worth listening to. All we can do is decide on how we respond to it.
So be it. I will no longer entertain the long-cherished notion that my grandchildren or children will be interested in who I am or who I was beyond the occasional expected family role of “Grandpa.” But, I refuse to be forgotten. I will preserve our family histories in documentation, photographs, and stories. I will create a legacy journal of my life and of our blessed multiple decade marriage. Inevitably, a day will come after we are gone when our grandchildren will wish they had asked us about our lives. When they do, “anamnesis” will kick in. The knowledge they seek will be there for them. ❖
Author’s Notes
See the page sidebar at the top on the right regarding the entire series on Anamnesis.
The Wake
The cover photo at the top is the wake of the Cunard Princess trailing into the distance across the Atlantic Ocean. I took it in July of 1989 during our trip to Bermuda to celebrate our honeymoon. 35 years later, the image has become a powerful visual metaphor of the impact of the life we have lived and the memories we leave behind. What do we leave behind us after we are gone? Will we be remembered? Or will our wake become nothing more than temporarily displaced water in the ocean of the lives of our family, friends, and progeny?
Regarding Inline Links
As Nicholas Carr writes in The Shallows, What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains:
“Links don’t just point us to related or supplemental works; they propel us toward them. They encourage us to dip in and out of a series of texts rather than devote sustained attention to any one of them. Hyperlinks are designed to grab our attention. Their value as navigation tools is inextricable from the distraction they cause.” 8
In recognition of this important point, I have decided to provide citations and links to related resources here at the bottom. Even if it’s online, let’s return reading to being a sustained experience without the constant distractions of links that scream, “go here!”
References
- Brown, Brené. 2021. Atlas of the Heart. New York: Random House.
- Carter, Lucy , executive producer. Who Do You Think You Are? Series Six. BBC, 2009. 1 hr.
- Schwochow, Christian, director. The Crown, Season 3, Episode 5, Coup. Left Bank Pictures and Sony Pictures Television for Netflix, 2019. 1 hr.
- Arias,, Elizabeth Ph.D., Kenneth D. Kochanek M.A., Jiaquan Xu M.D., and Betzaida Tejada-Vera M.S. “Provisional Life Expectancy Estimates for 2022.” NVSS Vital Statistics Rapid Release. CDC, November, 2023. https://doi.org/10.15620/cdc:118999.
- Dean, James . “Pillemer: Family Estrangement a Problem ‘Hiding in Plain Sight’.” Cornell Chronicle. Cornell University, September 10, 2020. Retreived from: https://news.cornell.edu/stories/2020/09/pillemer-family-estrangement-problem-hiding-plain-sight
- Degges-White, Suzanne. “Why Grandparent Alienation Is a Loss Unlike Any Other.” Psychology Today. Sussex Publishers, LLC, March 31, 2023. Retrieved from: https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/lifetime-connections/202303/grandparent-alienation-a-loss-unlike-any-other.
- Mounk, Yascha. “Why More and More Children Are Cutting Off Their Parents.” Persuasion. Cornell University, October 8, 2022. https://doi.org/Retreived from: https://www.persuasion.community/p/coleman
- Carr, Nicholas. 2011. The Shallows, What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains. New York, NY: W. W. Norton & Company.
Further Reading and Resources
Brené Brown speaks about regret in an interview with Oprah Winfrey
https://youtu.be/6LthZluy7eg?si=TdynvxuidbnpW1ZD
The story of my parents’ courtship:
Hope Kept in a Wooden Box
Suzanne Degges-White on grandparent alienation in Psychology Today:
Why Grandparent Alienation is Unlike Any Other
Book on Legacy Journaling by Cheryl Svensson and Richard Campbell:
Writing Your Legacy: The Step-By-Step Guide to Crafting Your Life Story
Joshua Colman interviewed by Yascha Mounk on family estrangement:
Why More and More Children Are Cutting Off Their Parents
—JRG
