IT DOES NO GOOD TO WORRY

  IT DOES NO GOOD
​       TO WORRY

He arrived Jan. 14th, 1985.  The mask over his eyes protected his sight, while the bilirubin lights controlled his jaundice.  It was over a week before he was able to leave the hospital.
I worried about him.

Before he turned two he fell out of the back of our pickup camper and was rushed to the emergency room with signs of a concussion.
I worried about him.

When I picked up my office phone an excited voice said,
“Hey Mom, it was so cool I hit the best jump with my skateboard before I crashed.  Now my whole chin is ripped open and gushing blood.” 

I dropped the phone and sped home from work to take him to the emergency room for his first stitches.  His enthusiasm for his accomplishment made it hard not to laugh, but as the stitches were added to his chin tears welled in his eyes and mine.  Clutching my hand he said,  
     “Don’t worry about me, Mom.”

It seemed with every birthday candle added to the cake worries were added to my heart. Would he make it through school, through his teenage years, through life?   
And all along the journey I heard,
    “Don’t worry about me, Mom. 
    It does no good to worry about me.”
​
I thought it was a mom’s duty to worry? 
To check to see if his tiny chest was rising and falling with his breath as he slept in his crib.
To pace the floor when he had a fever.
To make sure he ate a few vegetables and not just ice-cream.  
To monitor his school work and his grades. To lay awake at night until I heard his truck pull safely into the driveway. 

Today is his 33rd birthday. He was with me for 22 cakes, candles and celebrations. This will be the 11th birthday that he hasn’t been here to celebrate.  I spend the day remembering him. Telling stories, reliving experiences, laughing and crying.  

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I reach to touch the chain that rarely leaves my neck. The simple gold necklace brings me comfort.  It brings me calmness as 
it lays safe and warm against my skin. 
My fingers glide across the smooth back of the pendant where the words,
 
   “Don’t worry about me mom, Love J.T.”
are engraved. 
​
​My thumb matches to his thumbprint on the front… connecting our love and reminding me he is in a place of peace and safety. Reminding me it was his path, not mine.  Reminding me it was in his control, not mine.
Reminding me that worrying didn’t bring me the power to save him.  Reminding me that he was wise in the knowing that it does no good to worry. 
               ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 
Pennie’s Life Lesson:
              “It does no good to worry.” 
              ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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IT DOES NO GOOD TO WORRY

YOUR TURN...         
My intent in sharing this with you is to encourage you to control the amount of energy and time you spend worrying. 

​Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below.  And please feel free to email me  at:
                PennieHunt@gmail.com. 
                          Thank you!  
                ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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                 Copyright © 2013-2018 Pennie Hunt
         This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt.
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