After seeing a movie where someone dies, YaYa has a hard time getting to sleep. He clings to me, and resists falling asleep for fear that morning will not come. After sifting through the critical family documents for YaYa’s birth certificate puts Tom’s death certificate in my hands as well, I have a similar reaction.
We all will die… someday. When I’m shaken, even knowing that our spirit will live on brings me minimal comfort. I don’t want to die. And I especially don’t want anyone close to me to die. Not now. Actually, not ever.
Letting myself fall in love again, knowing that there is no guarantee that me and my new love would grow old and gray together, has been a huge step for me. When first entertaining the idea of a relationship, I put my faith in God that he would not put me through the same pain again. I then tried to forget about all the widows I’ve heard of who found love again only to suffer another loss.
For the most part, the approach worked but occasionally, the fear of something tragic happening to The-Man-of-my-dreams haunts me. More than fearing him falling out of love and moving on is my fear that he will fall gravely ill.
I told YaYa that we cannot let our fear of death and dying prevent us from living and loving. Today, I must remind myself of this. The thing is life, and love for that matter, is without guarantees. And so, I do my best to push off the fear and just enjoy the beautiful gift of life and love which I have been given.