I hate death. I know death is a part of life, but I hate it. I hate the fact that it can be unexpected. I hate the fact that in a blink of an eye your whole world can change. I hate the fact that at some point we are all going to die...but we can't control it and we don't know when or how.
Maybe it's because I've experienced a lot of death in my life the past five years. My daughter passed away in my arms. I saw my dad take his last breaths. I've lost several family memebers and friends. But death totally freaks me out.
I think I probably think about death more than the average person. I read the obituaries every day. I worry every day that something is going to happen to Jason or my kids...or me. I am not afraid to die...I know that there is a life for me after death, but I am afraid to die for my kid's sakes. I want to be here for them. And I want their dad to be here for them. I am scared everyday that someone I know is going to be ripped away from me. I know this is not healthy. I know we can't control it, so why worry? But I really can't help it. I think it's because I've experienced two close people being ripped away from me in an instant. I don't want to experience that despair again.
Jason thinks I'm crazy, over bearing and overprotective when I beg him to call me when he gets to work. Or how I freak out when he gets home 10 minutes late from work. But I don't ever want to get the phone call saying he was in an accident.
I think it really all stems back to Nevaeh's death. It's when I realized that we are not invincible, and bad things happen, and people die. I just remember the helplessness feeling and the praying and begging and barganing with god. I felt like my own life was ending and the breath from the chest was being ripped from me. I wish no one on earth ever had to feel that way. Especially me or my kids or family.
I understand completely. If my boyfriend's parents or sister call at a random time of the day or night, my heart sinks immediately because I fear that something bad has happened... yet he can just carry on and even wait to call them back later. It makes me feel crazy!
ReplyDeleteBut I remember that there was a time when, for many years, those phone calls to me did mean that something bad was happening (either my mom was back in the hospital, her chemo wasn't working, her cancer was back, etc.). A lot of my fear also stems from people NOT answering my calls. That usually meant my dad was in the midst of checking my mom into the hospital again. It's hard to break my mind free of a cycle that one consumed my life.
The things we have experienced are completely life altering, frightening, and devastating. Will we ever be carefree again? Naive? Fearless? Probably not. But here's to hoping these feelings of fear lessen over time.
-Sami xoxo