Regrets? No, Not Really.

photo of an old woman

( Advanced Level )

Thank you for sitting down with me and having this interview. Shall we begin?”, the reporter smiled. Beatrice smiled back and nodded her head in affirmation.

Beatrice, as an award winning journalist who achieved many accolades in your lifetime, tell us about yourself and what gave you the drive to achieve as much as you did?” the reporter asked as she opened her book to take notes.

As Beatrice reflects back on her life during this candid interview on her, her work, her retirement from journalism and now her best selling autobiography.

She tells her story in a matter of fact way. No flowery words. Just the facts. Pausing between each thought. Remembering all the emotions she felt.

“I was born in the late fifties to a young single mother and an equally young father who left the scene as soon as he was told he was going to become a dad.”

“It was common, in this era, to send your young daughter off to an “aunt or grandparents” when their parents found out she was with child. In all actuality, she was sent to an unwed mothers home up to the time she was to give birth.”

“Once the young mothers gave birth, the baby was taken from them and the new mothers were sent back to their families No one was the wiser. All to save face with the people in the community and with the family.”

“Not one person thought about the child. How he or she turned out. Were they given to a good home? Were they happy? It was as if it never happened.

“I did happen. I was born on a cold rainy night in late September. They had seen too many young teenage mothers over the years. I was just another child born and needing to find a forever home.”

“As I patchwork the pieces of my life story together, it was later the next day, before my mother found out she gave birth to a seven pound two ounce baby girl.”

I was healthy and had lots of dark black hair with chocolate brown colored eyes. I was able to find an old faded photograph of myself from when I was ten days old.”

As the years passed, my mother’s memories faded of me. She was young and I cannot hold this against her. She continued on in her life as if that cold rainy night never happened.”

“My name, I have now, was given to me by my adoptive parents and I grew up in a suburban area in upstate New York. It wasn’t until I was nine years old that I found out I was adopted.”

Up to this point I was the youngest of four siblings. Two brothers and twin sisters. My father became ill and couldn’t work any longer when I found out this news.”

A choice had to be made and I was not part of this choice. As they looked at the situation I was not theirs. My parents were having a tough time making ends meet. It was a difficult time in our home.”

I couldn’t be sent back to the home in which I came. The only option was to find my biological parents. Why couldn’t they keep me? How can they just give me away? I didn’t know these people.”

“It was very difficult for me to understand. I became withdrawn and never spoke much anymore. My whole world was about to change.”

“My adoptive parents found my father. He was willing to take me in and raise me. I was told he never married but had several failed long-term relationships.”

“He had lost touch with my biological mother years ago and never tried to find her. Throughout the years he never wondered if she ever had the child she was pregnant with. His child.”

Before the new school year started, I was off to live with my dad. His mother, my biological grandmother, recently passed. My dad had lived with her so he never had to do anything.”

“My grandmother had done all the cooking and cleaning. Made sure his laundry was done. How was he now supposed to take care of a nine year old when he couldn’t take care of himself ?”

The answer was soon to be known. Not only was I to go to school but be the housekeeper and cook. My abilities were limited considering my age but I managed.”

“When I had time I wrote. It helped me escape reality. I never wanted to go to any school activities or hang out with friends. I didn’t want people to know of my personal life. Instead I wrote. Not in a diary, as most girls my age would do, but wrote stories.”

“Fantasies were never in my genre. The way I looked at life was different. I felt life had played a cruel joke. I grew up too fast. Had too many responsibilities.

My aspirations was to become a journalist. One who could travel the world and tell fascinating stories. I wanted to major in journalism once I went to college.”

“After ten years of living with my father I was able to do just this. I had worked at a fast food restaurant while I was in High School saving every bit of money I could.

“I chose a college far away from him and my life there. I was needing to have a fresh start in life. It wasn’t as difficult as I had expected. I already had the knowledge on how to take care of myself.”

“After I graduated, with honors, from college I landed a terrific job with a prestigious newspaper. Writing stories that mattered.”

“I now felt important. I made something of myself. Even after having a tough beginning in life and childhood.”

“I traveled to many countries writing stories of poverty, inequalities and instabilities in governments. A few of my articles won awards for outstanding writing.”

“It was difficult at times being on the road as much as I was. I was married to my work. This never allowed me time for relationships or children. I loved my work and the sense of validation it gave me.”

“When I retired I wanted to keep writing so I wrote my first book. My autobiography. I struggled with a title until another reporter asked me if I had any regrets. I looked at her and said, Regrets? No, Not Really’.”

One thing I learned over the years was to follow your dream. Follow what makes you happy. No matter if you are good at it or not.” she smiled and looked at her watch.

Thank you Beatrice for allowing us to know you a little more. All of us wish you the best in retirement and please do not give up writing.” The reporter closed her book, stood and shook Beatrice’s hand.

Written By: Angel

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Thoughts From Angel:

As the saying goes: When life gives you lemons just make lemonade. You cannot change the past but you can always change your future.

If you appreciate what I do:


affirmation – noun: the action of agreeing

accolades – noun: special honor or as an acknowledgment 

candid – adjective: truthful and straightforward

retirement – noun: leaving one’s job and no longer working

autobiography – noun: an account of a person’s life written by that person

flowery – adjective: (of a style of speech or writing) full of elaborate or literary words and phrases

era – noun: period of the past

with child – phrase: pregnant

to save face – idiom: retain respect and avoid humiliation

patchwork – noun: pieced together

suburban – adjective: outside of city limits

siblings – noun: a brother or sister

making ( to make) ends meet– phrase: earn enough money to live without getting into debt

option – noun: to choose or having a choice

biological – adjective: genetically related

housekeeper – noun: a person that manages a household chores

genre – noun: a category

cruel – adjective: willfully causing suffering to others

responsibilities – noun: a duty over something or someone

aspirations – noun: a hope or ambition of achieving something

journalist – noun: a person who writes for newspapers, magazines, or news websites or prepares news to be broadcast

honors – noun: high respect

landed – adjective: obtain

prestigious – adjective: respect and admiration; having high status

poverty – noun: extremely poor

inequalities – noun: lack of equality

instabilities – noun: lack of stability

on the road – phrase: series of journeys, especially as part of one’s job 

validation – noun: recognition 

regrets – noun: a feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened or been done

Question ( s ):

What is your personality?

Do you give up when things get tough or keep on moving forward?

Do you make the best of any situation?