What, me worry?


Despite the humorous icon of the famous Mad magazine, today brings anything but chuckles.

Apparently, Dad’s issues with his kidneys have become more troubling.  He will be undergoing a test tomorrow that will hopefully point doctors in the right direction to making him better.

As I sit here, dutifully creating my daily blog, I find myself challenged by the shadow in the corner that tempts us to let creeping negativity pollute us with worry.  No one is served well by succumbing to that emotion, especially because it is so narcissistic.

The only value worry brings is to allow you to feel sorry about yourself.  In this case, it’s important to be focused on health and healing.  My Dad, Stepmom and family gain no benefit from me pushing the panic button or randomly discussing “what if?” scenarios.  My strength and optimism is what’s needed and what I will deliver.

When my Mom died from cancer, she was too young.  Was her death unfair?  That seems ridiculous to say.  How many people lose their children?  How many kids don’t get to see their grandparents?  How many disabled or handicapped people are there?  Unfair?  No, life is not fair or unfair, it simply is.

I appreciated Mom when she was alive and still do today.  I appreciate Dad now and will tomorrow.  I also expect Dad to live forever, so I have a few reality issues to deal with.  While I fully expect Dad to come through this unexpected medical dilemma, I know that one day he will not be here either.  In the interim, I prefer not to give too much thought to the aftermath.

One of the coolest things about my Dad and Stepmom is that they both act and think young, often misleading people as to their actual ages.  They epitomize a long-lived relationship (47 years this year) in that they are younger together than apart.  It’s why sometimes even I forget they are both in their 80s.

It’s that very zest for life that I count on to carry Dad through this trial.  It’s tough to see him tired and frustrated in a hospital room, but I am secretly encouraged and pleased by his gruff aggravation and stubbornness that drives him to complain he wants to leave before he ends up “buying” his room because he was stuck at the hospital so long.  That’s the strength of purpose that will let him lick this illness.

So, until or unless I hear otherwise, no, I will not worry about Dad.  I will stay concerned for his health and positive for his recovery.

Then all we’ll have to worry about is how to rent out the room he “bought” at the hospital.

2 Responses to “What, me worry?”

  1. Kathy L. Kline

    I will say a prayer for your father, for you, and for the rest of your family as you go through this difficult time.


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