My girl was home sick from school with a fever. She curled up in my lap and we watched the weather channel, worried for our friends and family in New York, waiting for Hurricane Sandy. I looked down and she was crying.
"What's the matter?" I asked her.
"I'm worried that the hurricane will twist, like in the Wizard of Oz," she said.
Her cheeks were flushed a perfect pink, her eyelashes impossibly long and wet with tears. I felt something like fear in my heart. I always feel afraid when my girls are sick. I carry it with me, breathe against it, cradle it in my chest. It needles me, presses on my throat and turns my stomach.
Later, I went out to pick up Indian food, before the storm hit. It was the anniversary of my first date with my husband. We fell in love at a friend's wedding seven years ago. We couldn't go on a date to celebrate, not with the wind and the rain and our little one's temperature rising. We settled for not having to cook or clean up after ourselves.
Sitting in my car in the growing wind in the dark, it occurred to me how worried I am about losing the things I love. Every fear I have is a fear of death, in one way or another. Every moment of panic is an acknowledgement that death could take me away from something I love.
After my oldest daughter was born, I had terrible problems with anxiety. It was the first time I had a reason to live, and I couldn't take it, the terrible knowledge that I wouldn't live forever. I feel a little bit of that primal fear when my babies have fevers, when I watch buildings topple into the sea. I feel a little bit of that mama fear when I think of New York, of my brave friends there, of how they've been hurt before.
Anxiety, at its heart, is nothing but an attempt to push away my fear of dying, to deny it and keep it in the dark. The trouble is that anxiety grows, in the dark. Everything bad does.
I forced myself to sit with my fear, to work it through to its end, to try to drag it into the light. I watched leaves blowing past my car windows and imagined the worst thing, the thing I can't speak. What would I want to be, if death touched me, took away something I loved? Was I serving my love by giving fear a place inside of me, by worrying and making myself sick?
If death touched my life, would I live with its terrible mark on my skin, all over my life, forever, from that moment on? Would it honor my love to become obsessed with what I'd lost? Or would I be brave enough to live gratefully, even in the face of unspeakable loss?
The truth is that my daughters are beautiful beyond reason; they are the people I've always dreamed of being, they are good and pure and wonderful so that I can barely breathe. They are why the sky is blue, why the moon shines on still water. They are everything, and I get to share my life with them. Anyone who has met them, even for a moment, has been made immeasurably better by their little hands' touch. And I belong to them.
I am not living with my whole heart, allowing myself to be crippled by a fear of losing them. That dark thing should never enter me. There shouldn't be enough room for fear, in the midst of all this love.
My sweet girl has a fever, and she will have many more. I hate that she's sick. I want my loves to be safe and warm, and it's not always in my control, but I shouldn't let that scare me. I shouldn't let my fear trick me out of a single, even fleeting, moment of thankfulness for my love, of acknowledging it, basking in it, washing my body in its light, holding the heft of it in my palm, warming myself in the wash of its beauty. I wasn't made for being afraid. I wasn't given this gift of love to hoard it and scramble with blistered fingers to keep it, afraid, always, of losing it. There simply isn't room inside of me for both love and fear.
This post was originally published on Last Mom On Earth
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
It's Another Trump-Biden Showdown — And We Need Your Help
The Future Of Democracy Is At Stake
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
Your Loyalty Means The World To Us
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
The 2024 election is heating up, and women's rights, health care, voting rights, and the very future of democracy are all at stake. Donald Trump will face Joe Biden in the most consequential vote of our time. And HuffPost will be there, covering every twist and turn. America's future hangs in the balance. Would you consider contributing to support our journalism and keep it free for all during this critical season?
HuffPost believes news should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their ability to pay for it. We rely on readers like you to help fund our work. Any contribution you can make — even as little as $2 — goes directly toward supporting the impactful journalism that we will continue to produce this year. Thank you for being part of our story.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
It's official: Donald Trump will face Joe Biden this fall in the presidential election. As we face the most consequential presidential election of our time, HuffPost is committed to bringing you up-to-date, accurate news about the 2024 race. While other outlets have retreated behind paywalls, you can trust our news will stay free.
But we can't do it without your help. Reader funding is one of the key ways we support our newsroom. Would you consider making a donation to help fund our news during this critical time? Your contributions are vital to supporting a free press.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our journalism free and accessible to all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. Would you consider becoming a regular HuffPost contributor?
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. If circumstances have changed since you last contributed, we hope you'll consider contributing to HuffPost once more.
Support HuffPostAlready contributed? Log in to hide these messages.