The more you have, the more you could lose

One of the more difficult parts of growing up is that as the years pass you stand the potential of losing more and more. I remember in middle school an occasional student's grandparent would die, in high school, besides the death of Kurt Cobain, tragedy rarely struck anyone with the exception of maybe someone who lost a parent in a terrible accident. As college came around, you could lose a friend, or someone very close to you. As post-college years pound on, you indeed could feel great sorrow for losing a boyfriend or another family member.

Then people get married. The stakes rise, the idea of losing your husband is something that has entered all our minds. On the way home from work, a terrible car accident. Being inside a bank at the wrong time, anything is possible. If something ever happened to him, it would feel like you lost a part of yourself. Then, you have a child. If something ever did happen to them you literally would lose a part of yourself, and the pain of that is not something I would ever recover from.

We have it easy nowadays though. Take my great-grandmother for example. She had 12 children. 3 died in infancy (1 of those I think from scarlet fever), 1 died in her sleep (choked to death), and 1 died at 7 years old because he stepped on a rusty nail. 7 others made it to adulthood, a feat probably unimaginable at that time. But, could imagine it. Your child dying because they stepped on a nail. How did she recover? Apparently she did, she never talked about it, but it was in the family history books. Was is just expected back then to lose a child to something as simple as running barefoot or because there were no child monitors to hear them choke in their sleep?

Why such morbid thoughts tonight?!? Well, my husband is packing his bags to leave for Columbia as I type this. He works for a major oil company and is traveling with high up executives. He tried to reassure me that because of his travel partners, the security is going to be extra beefed up. This doesn't comfort me.

What the hell would I do if I ever lost my husband; my best friend and the father to our beautiful twins. Of course, I'd go on to be strong for my children, but a part of my soul would die too. These are things that come into my head as I'm holding my son in my arms, watching his eyes get so drowsy he can barely hold them open. How would I do this alone? I mean, yes I do it alone quite often since dad travels so much but how would I do it if I was really alone? And what would happen to me if anything ever happened to one of them? I would die too. Not my physical body, but inside I would be dead.

I react much differently to news stories I see on television or the internet now. Back then, if I would see the death of a child, I'd think, "oh man, bummer, that's really sad." But now, if I see in the headline that a child has died, I can't read it nor watch it. I weep.

He's done this many times before. But still, until he's back home safe, I won't be able to breathe.