To be honest, I was a rather unhappy child. And this had nothing to do with my upbringing because in fact, I can’t imagine better parents and a happier, more stable home than we had. But I was a loner, quiet, sad and constantly had my face stuck in a book, especially if it meant I could avoid talking to people. But most of all, I spent my entire childhood worrying. What if I died? What if my parents died? What if I didn’t get enough sleep before my school photo (literally…age 7 and this kept me up for hours one night). I know this comes as a surprise to most of my friends who know me as the person that I am now…bubbly (perhaps a little too bubbly for some), outgoing, and always willing to make a new friend. I think my mom officially counts her blessings that I haven’t turned out to be a complete social pariah. So all this to say, when I was little, I panicked about the slightest change in my life. So inevitably, the end of the summer was always a stressful time for me. I would lay awake at night and worry that my free time was about to be over. What if I didn’t accomplish all the things I had wanted to do that summer? What if I didn’t play enough? What about the fact that I didn’t walk the dog enough? I was fully aware that I would never again be able to live the same day twice. I felt moments were passing me by and I worried they were slipping through my fingers without perhaps getting the appreciation I felt each day deserved. All of these things would cause me to fret. My parents were tireless in their efforts to calm me but nothing really could. So here I am, twenty-six years old and yet feeling all the same feelings again with Ben heading back to Afghanistan tomorrow. What if Ben didn’t get to relax enough? What if we spent too much time travelling? What if we didn’t laugh enough? Who will help me when he’s gone? Most of all, what if Ben doesn’t doesn’t come home safe? Because the reality is, I have to look after the house and dog, I have a full time job, this blog with Chatelaine.com (more fun than work, really), and two university courses starting next week (I already have my degree…but now to get my Publishing Certificate from Ryerson) and that’s a lot of work. I know millions of people out there have it ten times worse than me but I can’t help but feel panicked and like a part of my house is going to be missing. Ben. Such a huge and vital part. And I’m panicked. Mom, I feel six years old again. Only this time, the worries are so much more real. Kelly
FILED UNDER: under-fire
