I don’t write here much anymore. Maybe it is because I am on a stable level; living in the most equal and the most content relationship I have ever had. I don’t feel the need to pour deep emotions out in words because there aren’t as many and when there are, I want to respect other people’s privacy because I am more involved with other people. My husband has dragged me into his group of friends, reluctantly on my part, and I socialise more than I ever have; it is hard for me, given my intrinsic status as a loner and my desire to be myself, but I do it because I love him and he likes having me around his friends.
But sometimes, still, I want to write things that I know people in my life wouldn’t understand or I want to sort things out in my head and writing clarifies this process so I think I will always write here.
Last night something happened that dredged up deep feelings in me and I spent most of the night worried about it. My daughter was in a car accident. As far as accidents go, it wasn’t bad and there were a string of fortuitous circumstances that made it much easier for her (nobody was hurt, the other vehicle was driven by undercover cops who were very understanding, there was an ambulance just passing by to check them all out, two friends happened to be also passing by so they stopped to be with her, the cops only gave her a single ticket – it is double fines and double demerit points this weekend, she never drives and imbibes so no problem on the breath test) but, still, when I heard her voice on the phone telling me not to worry, that she’d had a car accident, I couldn’t help but worry.
All night, ever since then, I have thought about what might have happened. I imagine the worst case scenario and I know others get irritated by it but I truly can’t help it. I have endured so much loss in my life and I’ve got through it, hurting badly, struggling but eventually coming out the other side. But the one thing I could truly not survive is the loss of either of my daughters, although I am thinking of my second born in this case.I think of my girl and her bright shining presence in the lives of everybody she touches and her incandescence in my own. She lights up my heart and brings a glow to my life.
I don’t spend all of my time worrying about what might happen to those I love but, in situations where there is the potential for losing them, I keep expecting it to happen. It is probably because my mind tries to protect itself, given my history.
I wanted to rush straight to be with my daughter, to hold her close and tell her how valued she is. I hate the thought of the loss of her car, one that she can’t afford to replace. I want to smooth every little bump in the path of my children’s life but I know I wouldn’t be doing any favours to them if I did. She was marvellous, handled it all herself and she is becoming more adult every day; aware of adult obligations and responsibilities. The more she grows up, the more she grows in me and the more devastating her loss would be to me.
And, so, triggered by this incident, I dream all night of those who went too soon and those who could go too soon, trying again, so futilely, to bend the universe and change what has already happened. I was powerless then and I am powerless now and sometimes being human defeats me.