Speaking of worrying about your loved ones…
Check out YaYa as he scooters from summer school to my office.
He HAD a helmet when I dropped him off this morning but where IS it?
Oh, it’s in the backpack. That’s a great place to have it – especially if one was to fall and hit their head or get hit by a car.
Is that likely to happen? Probably not but still.
Yeah, I let him have it and, tomorrow, there will be no scooter.
Perhaps it comes from years of working in the intensive care unit (ICU) where the worst of the emergency room (ER) lands. Or maybe I’m just a worry wart. The thing is, I’ve seen a lot of misfortune, misdiagnosis, and missed diagnosis. And more of the people who I loved most in the world are gone. So to me it seems a little natural to fear that I might experience loss again.
Honestly, I’ve always experienced a rush of fear when hearing sirens streaming in the direction of my loved ones. I used to come up with excuses to call the kids or Tom just to be reassured that all was well. I might ask what they wanted for dinner, or if there would be a trip to the gym before heading home. When fear overwhelms me, I must overcome it. It’s mostly been YaYa these past couple of years but now that BoBo is home again, I have him to worry about too. And let’s not forget about the Air Force or the plans to join the police force after that.
I’d be lying if I told you that it ended there. There is someone else whom I now worry about and subject to random calls or requests to text when they’ve landed safely at their destination.
I hope that I will not drive everyone crazy with my worry. Believe me, I’ve come a long way in this. I have. And when the shoe is on the other foot, so-to-speak, I am happy to accept the random call or send the text. It actually feels kind of nice to have someone worry about me for a change.