Why worry when whatever will be will be
WITH AGE COMES UNDERSTANDING AND ACCEPTANCE OF LIFE. I AM TRYING TO CALM MY RESTLESS SPIRIT AND LET GO. I COUNSEL MYSELF THAT WORRY IS FUTILE BECAUSE WE ARE JUST PAWNS IN THE HANDS OF THE ALMIGHTY
My school friend just became a grandmother and I have been gushing over the cute pictures she sends me of the angelic baby. Cherubic, with a blushing pink countenance and a serene look in her almond eyes, she is a doll. Going through the photos, I was transported to the time my daughter was of the same age and I held her gingerly in my arms, terrified lest I hurt her.
Fear was one of the countless emotions that ran through me, along with exultation, happiness and disbelief. A miniature form, she was so helpless and dependent. As I looked down at her tranquil, trusting face, shadowed by thick, silky lashes and perfect shell-coloured nails hidden in her tiny, curled up fists, my heart contracted and a knot of terror formed in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure. Would I be able to take care of this fragile, beautiful gift from God? I had visions of dropping her or losing her in a crowd. I would worry to death at night while she slept so peacefully that many a time I would put my ears to her tiny chest to ascertain that she was indeed breathing.
As I caught her little fingers and watched her tottering steps, I agonised over her future. When she joined board- ing school, I fretted about her constantly, praying she would adjust, settle down and be happy. I tossed in my sleep, questioning her career choices, sure that she was making a mistake and could do better. When she introduced her future husband to us, I was wary and suspicious, searching for faults and flaws.
With my son, I was no different. Ignoring his exasperation and annoyance, I would scan his friends in college, ask pointed questions about their whereabouts, late night parties and shamelessly walk unannounced into his room, praying and hoping that I wouldn’t catch him doing something forbidden.
With age comes understanding and acceptance of life. I am trying to calm my restless spirit and let go. I often counsel myself that worry is futile because we are just pawns in the hands of the Almighty and our journey on this planet is as beautiful as it is predestined.
However, I still anticipate the dreaded, midnight phone call where some strange voice will bring me bad news and make my blood run cold. I still unconsciously foresee receiving a devastating medical report that will change my life forever. I am perpetually on tenterhooks when the husband or children are travelling, always filled with a terrible foreboding.
In my various roles as a wife, mother, sister and friend, I am always scared and anxious for the well-being of my loved ones and somehow feel responsible for them all. I wish I was blessed with Mark Twain’s optimism when he declared ‘I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened’.
How I wish I was blessed with the ‘ joie de vivre’ and gay abandon of Doris Day in the 1940 Alfred Hitchcock movie, ‘ The Man Who Knew Too Much’ when she sung: “Que sera, sera, whatever will be will be, the future’s not ours to see, que sera, sera.”