I have a loved one visiting doctors, catching up on scary diagnoses.
I have an almost 11 year old visiting the middle school that she will attend next year (Mom, is this shirt ok?)
I have a 7 year old on the Metro, headed downtown to DC for a field trip.
I have a 4 year old in a school bus, in the rain, ALSO headed downtown for a field trip.
My worry was emanating off of me like waves this morning, every move touched with its own anxiety.
“Mom, what is wrong with you?” my middle asks.
I stand up, sigh, and smile.
“Ah, well. You know…getting ahead of myself, Louise. Getting ahead of myself.”
Isn’t that what the worry is?
The imagining?
The projection?
Sometimes fear is right on the money: “That alley is dark and I am alone and I should go down another street.”
Often, fear is whispering about things that will probably never happen: “Buses crashing, metros bombed, mean big middle school kids, cancer everywhere…”
The thing is, it COULD happen.
I know a woman who works with a man. A father.
Yesterday, a plane fell on his house and his wife and two out of three of his children are dead.
It is him and his one remaining child now.
He went to work, like you and me.
And now, almost his entire family is gone.
All that worrying I do?
It HAPPENED TO HIM.
But right now, RIGHT NOW, I have a choice.
I can LIVE and find peace OR I can WORRY.
Because I cannot do both.
You cannot LIVE in this life…see what is front of you, love your people, smooch your dog, see the bright pink jacket, and smile at your neighbor…you cannot do these things if you are kidnapped by worry.
To honor this man and lost family, I am going to be right HERE.
Do I have concerns? Yes, I am not a robot.
But I can see them, acknowledge them, and KEEP LIVING.
Keep smiling.
Keep laughing.
Keep hugging.