I’m tired. I think each day that tomorrow wont be so mad and busy, but then tomorrow comes and it’s just as manic as today. As I settle for the night there is as much on my ‘nope I didn’t get around to that again today’ list as there is my ‘yes’ list. Yesterday was a less than satisfactory day and I did something in error which I am still not ready to laugh about. The reason I did it was simple, too much rushing around chasing my tail.
So today I decided enough is enough. All this rushing is ridiculous and the self induced deadlines unnecessary. Today I took time out. I did what was essential and a little of what was on my ‘to do’ list. Part of my ‘cop yourself on’ plan was to take the time to enjoy the moments in which I can relax. So as I sat savoring one of my many cups of tea, instead of opening my laptop and answering the ridiculous number of emails waiting for me, I put my laptop and phone aside, sat on the couch, the sun slowly baking me, and forced myself to relax.
I looked around my empty, quiet kitchen and remembered tremendous noise from past years. How I dreamed of having time alone like this? My gaze passed to the collages on the wall. So many photos of the children through the years; smiling faces bringing back a flood of great memories. Then, as happens regularly, my gaze fell on one of Daniels photos. He smiles out at me, a young boy only months away from a devastating diagnosis.
It was then it hit me.
This running and racing is new to me. Over the past few years I’ve not been rushing around, pushing myself to reach deadlines, worrying about numbers. I’ve not been watching the clock and I’ve definitely not been waking at night with a million small concerns racing through my mind. So what has changed? Why am I ‘stressed’?
The answer was simple. I have begun to forget.
While Daniel was sick I had no worries, no every day run of the mill worries anyway. Wondering if your friends’ child is going to live or die changes everything. For the eleven months of Danny’s treatment I didn’t have a real care in the world, because nothing really mattered. Health was everything. After we lost Daniel silly everyday worries were wiped off the radar.
Recently I’ve begun to forget this. I’ve allowed myself to be sucked back into every day life, forgetting that each day is precious and nothing is guaranteed. It’s okay to stress slightly but the scales had tipped and I was no longer appreciating all that I have, nor was I taking enough time to enjoy it.
So tonight when I wake and the many small items from my ‘still have to do’ list begin to roar at me I will take a moment to remember and as I do I will be thankful that I have so many small worries.
photo credit: Matt Preston via photopin cc
photo credit: bumper talk via photopin (license)
29 thoughts on “What worries have you?”
Thank you for the perspective.
Thanks Joanne. We all forget at times.
oh, this is so good and so true, tric. it is far to easy to forget what is really important and get caught up in the crazy whirlwind of life. people who come into our lives, like daniel, continue to teach us endlessly.
Yes his loss has left a big impression. Thanks Beth.
Bravo for remembering the lessons you vowed once would never forget 🙂 that’s the key, me thinks, retaining the lesson of what is priority, what’s not, what is easy, what is not and remembering the world as a whole might have forgotten and wish you’d forget too – cuz it’s easier, less painful, etc. Easy to get sucked back in – I know – but still liked the ease of daily life when I had my focus/priorities nailed down – 🙂 Great Post!
You’re right when we do get our priorities right life is actually easier not harder. Now I just have to remember.
That always seems to be the trick, for me, remembering. 🙂
Wise post, Tric – thanks for helping me to get things into perspective. We’ve just had the same shock here – the death of a child shakes everyone and everything up. It’s set off a strange reaction in MM, whereby refusal has been replaced by acceptance for many things. Except the death of a child. I’ll never be able to accept that, and I’m still working on reducing the anger.
Oh MM I am so sorry. The loss of a child has a massive ripple effect even on those who barely knew them. I don’t think we ever accept it but it’s necessary to try to channel the hurt and anger in the right direction. Sometimes it is the anger and hurt which makes us feel the raw grief and therefore helps us cry and grieve. It’s the foreverness that is hard to get my head around. As I see my gang aging and remember Daniel and small Ben never got that chance. Again my sympathies. You can always email me an angry rant anytime. I’ll hear hear it.
Thanks, sweetie. I don’t think I have ever felt so much pain, incomprehension and – above all- love and overwhelming support for a family as the day I attended that funeral. Losing someone at an adult age seems more logical than seeing a child suffer and die so young. It is the feeling of being powerless to protect those we have the instinct to protect that hurts the most. Now it’s time to rally round our friends and help them along the road to learning to live with their loss.
Everyday I have to remind myself that I am here for a reason and a purpose. Sometimes it is just like you said slow things down a notch and let it flow…enjoy each moment that happens in your life. So many things we stress about aren’t worth the stress we give it. Great post!
Thank you. Yes it can often be that we cannot see the wood for the trees.
It’s quite shocking how we let ourselves get pulled back in like that isn’t it? Brilliant post for us all Tric. Daniel is still being his ‘cheeky’ self and ‘tsk tsk’ ing you in to remembering life’s joys. Good boy Daniel. ❤
Thanks Colleen. I couldn’t believe it when I suddenly realised how ridiculous my ‘worries’ are and the fact they were impacting my life. Now to begin to relax.
It seems like young Daniel had a lot of lessons to teach us. He’s doing well via you Tric.
It’s interesting that I read your blog this morning and what worries have I. (I know, bad grammar) I took my bedtime medication about an hour and a half before I went to bed last night. Three hours later, I was still lying there, contemplating a medical procedure that I’m having done in 2 weeks. Also birthday in 2 weeks (Halloween).
I think it’s incredible to remember the worries we have by night. I don’t know if you’re like me but during the day those worries barely exist.
Not so for me, as I live alone and tend to isolate in my apartment a lot, so I have a lot of time to think, even when there are things that I don’t want to think about.
Great advice, Tric. It’s a shame, but we all go through those times of rushing around, making too many lists, and feeling stressed about little things. When that happens to me I go out into nature and just breathe in the natural world and some how it calms me down.
Yes I know what you mean. We go for a walk and it’s so peaceful with only cows in the fields for company. Afterwards I feel so differently, energised and stressless.
Tric, thanks for this insightful post. The ironic thing is that some would argue that being back in ‘everyday’ mode is a positive sign of ‘moving on,’ to use that awful phrase. After my boyfriend died when I was in my early twenties, I had about a year of not knowing worry. That sense of nothing matters and carpe diem took over. It was so liberating in ways but the sadness that lay beneath soon found its way to the top and begged to be understood. That was at a point when I had gone into overdrive re work. I think our minds try to do anything but face pain and sadness – a bit like fainting in the face of physical pain!
What an interesting view of my ‘forgetting’. I think you are right. I’ve noticed humour returning to my writing and the content changing, but I also think it’s important to never forget that all those worries are not really ‘worries’.
Mind you it’s not easy to stop them flooding my brain during the night.
We seem to be on the same wave length these days. My blog post today (Oct. 20) deals with the death of two children, sisters, and organ donation. And this other post by the mother of the two children who died is truly inspiring. You can find that post at: http://love-drenched-life.com/2015/10/20/heaven-day/
Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I love your love rocks but what a dreadfully sad story. She lost her two girls weeks before Daniel. It’s hard to imagine what she has gone through in that time.
I read this post a few days ago, Tric, and though I was touched by it, I wasn’t sure how best to comment. I can’t imagine the pain of losing a child. It’s understandable that everyday events sometimes crowd in on us — that’s just the way our minds work — but sometimes when we sit back and try to get the big picture, we realize at so much of what we fill our days worrying about is really rather trivial when it comes down to it. It sounds that remembering Daniel helped you to put things back into their proper perspective.
The loss of Daniel has made a huge difference in all our lives and at times it’s lovely to imagine he is working in the background of life.
Every day, no matter what is happening there are times when the flashbacks are so vivid. I stop and my breath is taken away as I remember ‘Oh my god, Danny got leukemia!’ closely followed by that sickening realisation, ‘He died!’.
Awful and all as those memories are, I still live in my home with my four children, unlike my friend who has four minus one. So I can never really know what she is going through.
Perspective is so important and health trumps everything. In many ways remembering Dan ensures I enjoy and appreciate every day. Lets just say I smell the roses, even if they are among weeds!
I hope I continue for many more years to be plagued by small worries. 🙂
I imagine there will always be flashbacks that catch you when you least expect them. I’m not sure that it could really be otherwise with such a traumatic loss.
It’s a touching thing, though, that Daniel’s memory continues to have such a positive impact in helping you enjoy and appreciate your days. Being plagued by small worries doesn’t sound so bad a thing to me either.