Thomas Carlyle lived from 1795 until 1881. He was a Scottish writer, an essayist and a historian. In his lifetime he became one of the world's greatest writers. He was a great writer but a less than perfect husband.

You see, Thomas Carlyle married his secretary Jane Welsh. She was an intelligent and attractive daughter of a rich doctor. They had a good marriage. Oh, they had their quarrels, but still loved each other.

After several years of marriage, Jane became ill. By his nature Carlyle was a hard worker, and he threw himself into his writings. Jane had cancer, and it was one of the slow growing kind. Finally, she became confined to her bed. Although Carlyle loved her dearly, he very seldom found time to stay with her long. He kept busy with his work.

When Jane died they carried her to the cemetery for the service. The day was a miserable day. It was raining hard and the mud was deep. Following the funeral Carlyle went back to his home. He was taking it pretty hard. He went up the stairs to Jane's room and sat down in the chair next to her bed. He sat there thinking about how little time he had spent with her and wishing so much he had a chance to do it differently.

Noticing her diary on a table beside the bed, he picked it up and began to read in it. Suddenly he seemed shocked.. He saw it. There, on one page, she had written a single line. "Yesterday he spent an hour with me and it was like heaven; I love him so."

Suddenly it dawned on him.. He knew she cared but he never realized the depth of her love. He had been too busy to notice how much he meant to her. He began to think about all the times he had gone about his work without thinking about or even noticing her.

Then Carlyle turned the page in the diary. There he noticed written some words that broke his heart. "I have listened all day to hear his steps in the hall, but now it is late and I guess he won't come today."

Carlyle read a little more in the book. The tears welled up in his eyes and it seemed like his heart was breaking. He threw the book down and ran out of the house. Some of his friends found him at the grave, his face buried in the mud. His eyes were red from weeping. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks. He kept repeating over and over again, "If I had only known, if I had only known." But it was too late for Carlyle. She was dead.

After Jane's death, Carlyle made little attempt to write again. The historians say he lived another 15 years, they described him as "a changed man.. a man who lived a weary, sad life as a recluse."

Don't Regret.. What You Can Change Today!

Too often, we fail to realize or to let people know how incredibly important they are to us. Usually it isn't until it is too late that we realize just how little we told the people we love how much we love them. I have stood by too many coffins, at too many grave sides and heard people say, "Why didn't I call her.. Why didn't I tell him that last day, how much I loved him.. Why didn't I hold them one more time.."

Don't end up regretting what you can change today. Today, go to that love one, hold them, tell them, call them, speak the words.. Tell them how much you love them. You will be surprised at the impact those words will have on them and on you.