How many time have you thought or started to say: “I am glad, but…?”

Usually that means you’ve experienced something but are not really fully pleased with the experience. Does this mean we have regret about whatever we did? Well maybe, but it doesn’t have to be a negative moment.

Perhaps it’s a learning moment. An awakening to something that you didn’t fully embrace, and now, the moment is gone. Let’s begin with a personal experience…

I served in the Navy during the Vietnam War — a totally awful and unnecessary conflict. Yet, while in the military, I experienced parts of the world that I had never thought possible for me to visit.

However, let it be known that my military service (like millions of others…) was done because of the military draft. I had no plans to serve, but was called and did so. Fortunately, I met fantastic people, saw many awesome historical sights, and helped — in a little way — to protect our country against Communism.

I’m glad I served, but the horrible loss of lives and the ongoing mental and physical trauma for many who served was not worth what I experienced in the Navy.

I’m glad I served, but…

On a brighter note, I recently purchased a bottle of Georgian dry amber wine called Otia. Don’t even expect me to pronounce the name of the two grape varieties that make the wine — Rkatsiteli and Mtsvane. The wine is sustainable grown and produced, aged six months and released.

It has very strong flavors of fig and apricot which would pair nicely with some spicy foods. It is very yeasty looking and one can tell it is not filtered.

I’m glad I tasted it, but found the wine not the most pleasant tasting experience. Maybe I should give it another try?

Growing up, most of us don’t sit down with our grandparents or parents to have a family heritage conversation. We don’t ask them about their life’s journeys and all they experienced including the now, what and why of their stories.

My parents were good people. They worked hard on the farm and on raising all of us kids. Never once did I sit down and ask them to tell me their story. I certainly never had that conversation with my grandparents, either.

I’m very glad for my rural upbringing, but wish I’d had those storied talks with all my family.

Maybe if you still have that ability to talk with your parents or grandparents, it might be a good thing to do. I certainly regret not doing it.

Well, to ease my conscience, I’ll raise a glass of Chateau Ste Michelle Chardonnay to my ancestors. There’s some comfort in that motion, and I think my folks would agree.

May you fully experience your life.

As always, eat and drink in moderation but laugh with reckless abandon.

Cheers!