The quiet.....

When I was little, quiet was all I wanted. I know I have discussed my night time issues again and again, but apparently, it is something I am still working through, thinking about and processing. I would sit in my bed at night and just listen. I would listen, hoping for silence, but would always get noise.

A car driving by outside, cricks and creeks downstairs, people talking, my parents watching a scary movie. Almost anything would get me out of bed. I would get out of bed and assume my nightly position on the top of the stairs. I would sit down on the top of the stars and hug my knees close as I listened. It is amazing how much background noise you can hear when you try. I would hear what I am sure what the house settling, but in my mind it was a huge gang of burglars and they were coming to steal me, or worse kill me. I know, crazy childhood imagination, right. I always say my imagination was my best and worst friend all at the same time. During daylight hours, my imagination was spectacular. I would play and build and invent and travel to so many magical places. At night, I was a sitting duck awaiting fire, theft, kidnapping or murder, for sure.

If I die tomorrow.....

I have to admit, the magical thinker in me is a bit fearful that this blog will either cause me to jinx myself (and I actually will die tomorrow), or if nothing else trigger an anxiety attack when I suddenly begin believing that each ache, pain and quickened heart beat is in fact terminal.

I have been thinking about this a lot lately, how precious and fragile life is and how none of us know how much time we have left. It can be scary and it can be inspiring. It can be scary, for me anyways, because I feel like there is so much I would want my loved ones to know. You never know if you will get to say good bye and you want nothing more than for your loved ones to be ok. It scares me to think I could die and never get to say thank you, I love you, I am sorry, I forgive you or I understand.