Is worry your constant companion?
Most who know me think I am a relatively laid back person. However even though I don’t really “do stress” I still worry.
I can remember even as a child worrying. I worried about small things, like friends, fitting in, homework and tests.
As a teenager I continued to worry. Funnily enough it was still about friends, fitting in, homework and tests.
My Dad got Motor Neurone Disease when I was in my late teens. I took on a whole host of new worries most especially how we could live if he died.
I moved into my twenties and my pal worry came with me. I worried about coping with my Dad, his dying, my mothers grief and my final exams which I had to sit just six weeks after my fathers death.
From the moment of conception those “darlings” caused angst.
Would I miscarry? Would the baby be okay? Would I survive the pain?
Then they arrived. Were they drinking enough? Sleeping enough? Why were they crying? Could they have meningitis? (It is never just a cold).
It never ends.
Some mornings when I wake early I lie in bed and a trainload of worry appears. However just as I feel it become unmanageable I sit up and I remember.
I remember a conversation I had with my Dad as a young twenty one year old. It was shortly before he died. We were speaking of my concerns about something that was happening at work. My Dad was lying in bed and was most uncomfortable, unable to move. I was holding his hand and he squeezed it. I looked at him and he said, in a barely audible tone, “I remember I used to worry about work. Now someone else does”.
I was taken aback. It really put my worry in context. As with most worries it was unimportant and would in time pass. All the years my Dad had worried about work, but for what? When at the age of 50 he retired to die he was quickly replaced.
As we sat together that day, my Dad knew his time remaining with us was short.
Now that was a real worry!
Last week one of my closest friends lost her very precious thirteen year old son.
She had spent a year worrying. Hoping he was one of the 80% who would survive.
If we really think of what she has gone through, and all she has to face, can we really say we have worries?
So tomorrow morning when the time between waking and sleep is interrupted by my constant companion, I will try to remember, that those worries are not really worries at all. In fact I am living a charmed life regardless of what those early morning or midnight thoughts try to tell me.
Count your blessings, not your troubles.