I worry about Caeden. I worry he pays too much attention to getting more than giving/sharing. I worry he doesn’t eat enough vegetables. I worry he isn’t paying enough attention to learning at home (writing, sounds of letters … totally boring to him). I worry about normal Mom stuff. Like you Moms out there know. We worry, right?
This morning I worried as we pulled up to the hospital and Wayne got out of the truck to say his good bye’s to us. Caeden started to cry and said, “Daddy I worry about you!”
And my heart broke. And Wayne’s did, too – it was written all over his face.
The way to the hospital we talked about normal things, like what he needed to do for work, who he was going to call (old friends/colleges/relatives) to catch up and say hello to. We talked about his Dad flying in this afternoon, about just normal stuff.
We didn’t talk about the things that keep us up at night. The things we worry about.
But Caeden. Little Caeden Koop has worries all his own that we can’t explain away. And his worries must be so scary to him. I know he was thinking about dropping his Dad off at the hospital and what usually comes along with that – a high strung Mom, nights of being tucked in by just me and not his Dad, a Dad that doesn’t feel so hot …
Sometimes I can really make myself sick with the things I worry about. But, I am always able to figure it out, calm down, and move on. It’s so hard to think that I can’t do that for Caeden. For as many times as we explain what Wayne’s “generator” (Caeden’s word for Wayne’s chemo pump that he wears 24/7) does, or how the chemo is killing the cancer bugs, Caeden still holds onto worry all his own.
And that is the way it is, isn’t it? We all live in our own bubble of worry.
I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.