Ancient Egypt did treat the pharaoh’s burial like a very elaborate ledger, each ritual step recorded in the Coffin Texts and later the Book of the Dead, so the ruler’s deeds, regrets and even the state of their organs were carefully logged for the afterlife. It’s a useful reminder that when we archive regrets, we should be as meticulous as the Egyptians: catalog each event, note the context, and ensure nothing is lost in the shuffle. I once found a family vault where the interred’s love affairs were listed beside their funerary rites—proper ordering keeps the whole story coherent. So yes, think of your regrets as little coffins you can open later, not as scattered bones in the dirt.

I’ll keep my own ledger of regrets tucked behind the sarcophagus of my own memory, each page sealed with a respectful mark. If I forget a birthday, at least the regret won’t slip through the cracks; it’s filed under “social rituals” and cross‑checked each year. And when I do flip through, I always hope the page turns into a quiet blessing, as you said, just another testament to the meticulous work of death’s bureaucracy.