A Life of Regret Can Still Be a Good Legacy

Mark set the boxes down and picked one to pack as he looked around the living room.  After 26 years, a wife, five kids, six cats, and one dog, he found that packing up this house seemed like a heavy task.  So many memories, both good and bad. He and his wife had divorced in 2020, and his kids were all grown. The divorce was amicable and they were still on good terms, but the love they once shared was cold and gone, doused by mistake after mistake on his part. The regret and shame he felt made leaving this house bittersweet. He was happy to leave the place where he was reminded daily of his worst times, but also sorrowful that the place where they had raised their family would no longer evoke memories of the good times.

He had come ahead of his sons to start packing things for the move. While waiting, he wandered through the house, lost in the memories of years gone by. They had moved into this house shortly after the birth of his youngest son, Matthew. Mark was still on probation at the time for an offense he had committed years before, but which had only been adjudicated four years before they had moved into this house. He could still remember the abject fear in his heart and the weakness in his knees when the woman who oversaw his probation phoned or came anywhere near him.Her only job, as she saw it, was to find any way she could to return him to incarceration, and that equated to destroying Mark’s family again. The thought of that still frightened him to this day. 

Mark picked up a picture of his birth family and wiped the dust off of the glass: two parents, five brothers, two sisters, and himself. He was the seventh of eight children. His childhood was normal except for one aberration. Out of eight kids, he was the only one who was gay. His family was conservative and Christian, and they lived in a southern state where everyone seemed to be the same. Growing up gay in the 70s and 80s was challenging, to say the least. He wasn’t flamboyant nor openly gay. He learned to blend in and mostly kept out of trouble, but it is impossible not to act upon impulses before you learn self-control. His actions led to embarrassment not only for himself, but for his family on several occasions. Mark was now 60 years old and had thought those errors were long forgiven and forgotten.Three days ago, he found out that they were not when his sister reminded him and by doing so, tacitly informed him that she had not forgiven him. Mark was deeply saddened by that revelation. Mark’s wife and kids did not know about his childhood mistakes, nor did they know that he lived in a state of exile from his siblings.

Mark looked around at the knick-knacks on the walls and shelves.  Souvenirs and plates from his travels overseas while enlisted with the U.S. Navy. He looked at the pictures of the two aircraft carriers he called home for 5 years. He could hear the roar of the jets and the sounds of the flight deck as the jets launched and landed. He remembered the quiet nights after the hours of flight ops when he would climb the ladders to the 010 level behind the bridge and stare out over the ocean while the wind blew calmly around him. The peace it brought would settle him after a noisy, chaotic watch in the Combat Direction Center so that he could sleep well. He picked up his rack of service medals. He was proud of his service to his country.His honorable service was the last part of his life that was unshadowed by sorrow, grief, and shame. Mark had grown up believing that he lived in a world where second chances were the rule, and that forgiveness was common in society, but his experience in life taught him the harsh lesson that all of that was a lie told to children to teach good morals. The truth was that society was brutal, draconic, and unforgiving to those who screw up. Intentions didn’t matter, only guilt.  Mark hated the bitterness in his heart, but he knew that it was not because of what was done to him. He deserved that. It was because of what was done to his family. They did not deserve what was done to them. Everybody had an excuse for not helping them.

Mark walked into his bedroom and looked around. On his wife’s old dresser was a perfume bottle he recognized well. She had been wearing it when they had first met. He took a whiff of the fragrance. It was called “Vanilla” by Alyssa Ashley. It still smelled as lovely as it had when they had met. He sat on his bed, enjoying the fragrance and running his fingers around the shape of the bottle as, again, happy memories flooded through his mind, as well as his body.He had met his wife on a beach in Hampton, Virginia, while walking the beach for exercise. The beach was not highly populated, so it was quiet and peaceful.Mark had chronic ear infections, so swimming was not a common activity for him, but on this day it was the height of summer and he broke with custom and decided to take a dip to cool off.As he stood in the chill waters of the Chesapeake Bay, he scanned up and down the mostly deserted beach. As he looked back toward the parking area, he noticed a hint of white and light blue and focused his attention there. Along the beach there walked a young woman with dark hair, white skin, white shorts, a light blue polo shirt, white socks and tennis shoes with multicolored shoe strings. As she got closer, Mark realized she was rather pretty.

Mark said, “Hello,” and she replied, “Hello.”  

Then Mark said the dumbest and only thing he could think of.

“Would you believe I’ve been here for two years and this is the first time I’ve ever set foot in the Atlantic?”

The young woman stared at him for a moment and then laughed. 

“Are you in the service?” she asked.

“Yep, I’m in the Navy,” Mark replied. “My name’s Mark.”

“My name is Connie. What do you do in the Navy?” Connie asked.

“Nice to meet you, Connie. I’m an Operations Specialist on a carrier,“ Mark said.

“Ooooh. That must be exciting,” said Connie.

“It can be,” said Mark. “Would you like a tour? I can take you on board, if you like.”

“That would be cool,” said Connie. 

“How about Thursday?” Mark asked.

“That would be good,” Connie replied.

“Ok, just come to the gate at Pier 12 and I’ll pick you up there,” said Mark. 

After conversing for another two hours, Mark and Connie parted. Mark, who wasn’t wearing sunblock, developed a second-degree sunburn. Nevertheless, they met for the tour, followed by dinner out.Two weeks later they were engaged.The rest, as they say, was history.Connie would later refer to that moment as the day that she made her “catch of the day.”

The bed Mark sat on was the first shared purchase they made as a couple. All five of their children were conceived in that bed, and many happy times had occurred there. But, then Mark made the worst mistake of his life, and Connie found out that he was gay.For two years Mark spent time incarcerated for a shameful crime. His wife and four of his children had to live without him, and life was hard for them, while his mind was almost shattered from the consequences of his actions.That became the beginning of the end for his marriage to Connie, although it lasted a total of 29 years.

Mark knew that the marriage was over before Connie announced that she had filed for divorce. Her attitude and actions made it plain that she was no longer in love with him. No amount of discussion would ever bring her back to him, so one morning he decided it was time to confront the situation head on. He sat in his recliner and quietly asked her. 

“Connie, have you filed for divorce, or not?” She was used to Mark guessing her actions after 29 years of marriage so she simply answered.

“Yes. I feel like we haven’t been married for a long time. I’m just making it official,” she said.

Mark just remained silent. There was nothing further to be said. It was over. In March they signed the papers, and she took what she wanted and left. Their oldest daughter moved in with her, mainly because she didn’t want her mother to be alone.  Mark completely agreed with her decision. Mark’s oldest and youngest son stayed with him. Mark’s younger daughter and middle son both were married and had their own lives, so the divorce had no real effect on them. So, life went on.

Mark thought about his children. When it came to legacy, his children were his. He knew he was not the best husband. He threw everything he had into his children. His love, care, money and everything he had went to his children. It became a problem with his wife. As he became closer to his children, he grew further away from his wife, and he had no idea how to fix that. Logically, in his mind, Mark knew that the marriage needed to come first, but he kept putting the kids first while the marriage withered away. What did that say to his kids? What was his legacy to his kids?

Mark thought about legacy a lot at 60 years of age.Looking around at his kids’ bedrooms he couldn’t help but wonder what they would remember of him. Was he a good father to them? Was he a criminal in their eyes because of his record? Had his two daughters forgiven him for allowing his foolishness to take him away from them for two years, and allowing them to be humiliated by the parents of friends with the internet who were unforgiving, and teachers who tried to turn them against him over unjustified fears and a foolish belief that a man can never change? In his mind, Mark raged over the tears that his kids had shed when their friends had told them that they could not be friends because of him.Punishing him was the law.Punishing his kids was unjustifiable by any measure of morality. Why should children have to suffer the pain, grief, sorrow, loss, shame, humiliation, loneliness, and exile of the father? Mark, himself, was a Christian, but how dare these people who caused his children such pain, call themselves Christians?

Mark had always been open and honest with his children about his past. He thought about the lessons he had taught his children about right and wrong. His number one rule? Whatever Daddy did, do the opposite. He wanted them to understand that he had made egregious mistakes.He had to make sure that they knew that with those mistakes came grave consequences. Mark could have left all of that behind and forgotten it. He had gone through the counseling ordered by the court. He had worked his way through his past and isolated the mistakes he had made, and come to terms with the pain, grief, and sorrow that his mistakes had brought about.He knew he had caused the same for others. He felt the pain when the unforgiving people in society kept digging up his past for no reason. But he chose to keep those lessons that he learned and pass them down to his children as a part of his legacy to ensure that they never made those same mistakes nor followed in his path in any way. He never wanted another descendant of his to have to suffer what he went through nor cause suffering for anyone ever again. 

Mark went to his office desk. He sat down, opened his file drawer, and pulled out a file. In the file was a single letter. It was the only piece of evidence that remained in his possession of the worst series of events in his life: his release from probation from 24 years before. The summation of 5 years of pure hell on earth for himself and for his family.The very sight of the papers in his hand evoked strong feelings of helplessness, rage, fear, humiliation, and tears from the deepest depths of his soul. There had been so many times that he had wanted to burn this damnable reminder of his fall from grace, but every time he had returned it to its place in the file.Like every other time, he laid the paper on his desk and bowed his head over it and prayed. Dearest God in Heaven, I come to you in my moment of weakness and need. I am filled with shame, remorse, and sorrow over my past sins. I regret what I have done and again I ask for your forgiveness and mercy in the name of your son, Jesus Christ, my Savior and Lord. My life is without worth, O Lord, but my children’s lives have a greater value. Please forgive me and have mercy upon me, and bless my children so that they are not stained by my sins. In the name of Jesus Christ, your son, I plead this prayer. Amen. 

As Mark finished his prayer, he felt the gentle touch of hands upon his shoulders. His sons, Ryan and Matthew, were standing by his sides with tears and smiles.

“Dad,” Matthew said. “We love you.”

Ryan nodded. “We know it’s been really hard for you, and leaving this house isn’t easy, either. But we’re here for you. We’ll help you get through this.”

Mark smiled through his tears. “Thank you, boys. I’ll be ok now. I love you both.”

He stood up and told the boys to go start packing up their rooms. Then, he turned back to the desk.  He picked up the papers, placed them back in the folder, took out the rest of the folders from the drawer, and dropped them all into a packing box. It wasn’t much, and it was painful to bear, but it was an important part of his legacy.