On Fear

I spend a lot of time being afraid.

I am afraid of being too happy. The last time I was really, really happy was two and a half years ago. Everything was good. Guy was starting to travel less, Lior was finally happy, the house was finally ready, I loved Adi's school so much. I was so happy. I told people I was happy. And then Adi got sick, and I remember doubling over in the emergency room because I could not breathe.

I am afraid sometimes that I brought this on. The evil eye. I let it in, because I told people I was so happy. I think I felt like this for a long time. I think I still feel like this sometimes, especially when I am alone in the house, or when everyone is sleeping late at night.

I am just plain afraid. We are nearing the end of treatment. In February, Adi is scheduled to finish maintenance. He'll keep taking antibiotics for another few months, but he'll be done with the oral chemo. And then we'll see what happens, and I am terrified. I catch myself holding my breath. I have to tell myself to breathe, to feel the air go in and out. To let go of the fear and just be.

I am afraid of failing my family. "How are your other kids," people ask, and I make a joke about the therapy and the psychological damage, and the people laugh, and I lie awake at night and think, Will they every forgive me? Will they ever be okay? Have I ruined them? 

I am afraid of the work that lies ahead. For two years, we had one goal: Keep Adi Alive. And now that he is, we have to go back to all the things we set aside for so long -- the reading, the writing, the math, the homework, The Plan for the Future.

Sometimes, the sun shines and I look out the window at my garden and the boys are sitting together playing, curled up around each other so that you can't tell where one ends and another begins, and the girls are not insulting each other and the kitchen does not look like a bomb hit it, and I think, This is so good, I am so happy, and then I think, But, and then I think Stop and I can remember the sound of water in my ears and the air rushing out of the room.

Sometimes I am afraid I will never breathe deeply again.

You need to just get over it.
You need to let it go.
You could get hit by a bus tomorrow.

I spend a lot of time being afraid.