I’ve written a lot of unpublished posts lately. Posts about things I’m stressed about or worried about or overwhelmed with. Things that I have felt are big, life-changing, course-altering things for my little family.
I haven’t been able to hit the “publish” button because some of those things can’t quite be public yet. When I try to write around the issue, it feels hollow. I can’t write unless I can write fully and honestly, so I am struggling to find the words to express how I feel without being able to say why I feel that way.
I have felt like the stress is coming from a hundred different angles. Little things, like planning a birthday party for Ryan, are piling on top of big things, like where my career is headed. Most of the change will be good. Maybe all of the change will be good. But for me, change itself is stressful, whether good or bad.
But you know what I learned today? I learned that none of that matters. Not one single piece of it. Abstractly, I’ve always known this. I’m aware enough to understand that some people would trade their stress for mine in a heartbeat. But today it smacked me in the face.
Two friends and their one-month-old baby were seriously hurt in an accident this morning. The sort of accident that invites updated news coverage all day long (much of it inaccurate, which has left me furious with my former profession).
They went for a family walk with their baby and their dog and they didn’t make it back. He didn’t make it to work; she didn’t make it back home to watch the HGTV shows she’s become addicted to on her maternity leave. Today, she won’t get to ponder whether to bust out that wall in her kitchen to create more “flow.” He won’t get to speed-change his daughter’s diaper, exclaiming that he clocked his best time so far.
I just met their baby girl on Sunday. She’s the spitting image of her dad – in a beautiful, feminine way, of course. They were new parents who seemed happy, content. But now everything has changed. They don’t have the luxury of worrying about life’s day-to-day issues. They’re fighting a much bigger battle.
I don’t want to go into too much detail on their accident or recovery. That’s not my story to tell. I am clinging to hope and faith and my knowledge that this is a family of fighters.
I want to scream at people around me that the little things they are annoyed with or concerned about DON’T MATTER. But those things annoyed me and concerned me yesterday, so I want to go back to yesterday and shake myself.
I hate the way this day has put things into perspective for me. I hate that I needed that perspective and I hate that this is the way I received it.