If I could permanently get rid of one worry what would that be? That’s today’s NaBloPoMo prompt.
I’m reluctant to write about this because it may get too personal but hey, I signed up for this, and let’s be brave.
There are a few things that I could put on a list of worries, and the first one is almost a cliché – although truthful – that I worry too much, and take things too seriously. I’m not unhappy about that, as it is part of what defines me, as someone who cares about others, myself and the consequences of my actions. Do I want to get rid of this? Not.
For each negative there is an accompanying plus, just like positive and negative atoms need and complement each other.
There is one extreme worry, though, that bothers me and I would like to change that.
Living abroad has its pros and cons. I’m someone, who feels at home when discovering and exploring new places. Living in different countries has given me the most incredible experiences and lessons. I wouldn’t change one bit of my journey so far. This is the positive side of it.
However, the flip-side is that my journey to other countries, brought me away from my family. It’s the high price I pay. This has never really bothered much, as I have cultivated the habit to visit my parents, brothers and sisters at least twice a year.
Then two things happened in 2012 that changed my mind. A younger brother died in March, after battling cancer for 4 years. And in May, my husband had a serious motorbike accident, breaking 3 vertebrae in his neck, while I was away on a trip to France.
Since then, I worry about losing my beloved ones.
If I could, I wouldn’t ever again feel the pain of loss. It is silent. It is cold. it is deaf. It is colorless. It is empty. it is heavy.
I grieved and came back. With a different perspective. Stronger. And my life took a new course with a new voice, color, warmth, weight and purpose.
Still, when my beloved ones (husband, stepdaughter, anyone in my family or circle of friends) travel or have an illness, I feel again that cold flow of emotions going through my body. I recognize it, I dread it; it is the unwelcome, old and tried, fear of loss.