Deep Breath

It seems that telling stories of tragedy that befalls other people is a popular pasttime in our culture. I never consciously noticed it until I had kids. Now, I notice. For some reason, I pay attention to every story that involves children. For example, a friend of my mom's told a story of a little boy (jack's age naturally) who walked out of the house one night after everyone fell asleep and froze to death. These stories are everywhere and my first reaction was to fret.. then think how I am different than those people... I would never leave doors unlocked right?

But that didn't work well.

Then I remembered something one of my midwives said when I was pregnant with Jack. A friend had lost her baby at the end of her pregnancy when I was 20 weeks pregnant and it sent me into a panic. When I told the midwife she said she would never be able to reassure me that things were going to be ok. You can't google your child and find the answer she said. But, she said, the course of life for most people here is that they are born, they grow up, they get old and they die.

I probably repeat this to myself once a day. Whenever I hear a terrible story or almost miss something that could have hurt my kids, I think, the normal course of life for most people here is that they are born, the grow up, they get old, and they die.

And I know she's right because social security will be insolvent soon because we have so many older citizens.




Can you picture them old? I try.