This week, sitting at cancer treatments, I found myself in a strange holiday twilight: the end of Hanukkah, right before Christmas. It got me thinking about the heaviest things I often carry: guilt and regret. Back in 2020, when I first got really sick, doctors gave me two years to live. I remember the sobering realization that I’d spent years as a workaholic, sacrificing so much to build a nest egg for my kids’ futures. Then, suddenly, the newspaper I worked for sold, I lost my job, and then Mike and I ended up spending every penny of that nest egg just to save my life. It felt like I’d given so much, for nothing. But fast forward to now, and sitting in that treatment chair, I saw how much has changed. No more 80-hour workweeks. Now, I have something even more precious: I have time with my children. Lately, my youngest daughter, Indiana, and I have started crocheting together. Every Sunday, we go to a crochet group, making scarves, hats, and purses. As I watched the crochet hook move this week, a beautiful analogy came to me, a wisdom my grandma always shared. She’d say, “I have regrets, but I still don’t think I’d change a thing.” Think of a crocheted blanket. Every single stitch is vital. If one piece of yarn breaks, the entire thing can unravel. Our lives are just like that. Every memory, every mistake, EVEN every failure…is a stitch. If we tried to cut out the parts we regret, we wouldn’t be the unique, resilient people we are today. Sometimes, the “flaws” in a handmade piece give it character, making it more valuable. Realizing this, a profound sense of peace washed over me in that treatment room. Grandma was right. It’s okay to acknowledge our regrets, but we don’t need to wish them away. Because if we did, we’d unravel the very fabric of who we are. YOU are perfect, exactly as you are—flaws, stitches, and all. #cancertreatments #ecstilson #LifeLessons #CrochetLove #NoRegrets - @elisabethmagagna