I've had "episodes" like this in the past, so it's nothing brand new to me, but I can't help but wish it would pass quickly. I used to be afraid of dying when I was young. I'd lay in bed terrified to go to sleep because I was afraid I wouldn't wake up. After I met Jake and was engaged to him, I was deeply saddened listening to the song "Romeo & Juliet" by Edwin McCain, because it got me thinking (mind you, the song itself doesn't directly deal with death, that I recall, it's been a while since I heard it as I have long lost the CD it is on) that I did not want Jake to die before me, but I also didn't want to die early and leave him behind in sorrow.
Well, now I'm back to not being afraid of death, but rather... fearing it will come too soon and being saddened at the prospect of that and just praying that it doesn't happen.
I obviously realize that how I feel about the matter has no bearing whatsoever on when God will take me from this life into the eternal one, but I can't help but find myself praying that he lets me live out more days here, to see my family and watch my son grow, especially. I'm just not ready to be done. Graciously, thus far, he has answered my prayers.
Thursday night, I lay awake in bed shortly after Spencer fell asleep, thinking about how if I were to die that night, Spencer would be alone, he'd wake up hungry and sad and cry for hours and no one would be there to comfort him because Jake was on his overnight route. No one would probably come to the house to look for me if I hadn't shown up at Jillian's for work the next morning until many hours of calling my phone and no response. He'd be so hungry and upset by then, his diaper certainly soiled and irritating his bottom as his stomach ached with emptiness. Naturally, I started sobbing and continued to do so until I had successfully cried myself to sleep. Needless to say, when he woke up each time that night, I was relieved to hear him and know that I was still there to take on his needs.
Tonight, I had trouble falling asleep again, thinking about how if I were to die when he was so young, he would not remember me for himself, just through what others tell him and what little legacy I have left behind for him to find on my own. I definitely had trouble falling asleep. As luck would have it, he woke up half an hour later, so I changed his diaper, gave him a bottle, and came here to write this.
Hopefully, getting the words out will help this "phase" pass once again.
And, here's to one more prayer that God lets me live many more years so I can be there for my husband and son.