Last weekend in Asheville, my friend Ellyn nicknamed Hugh, “Live Wire” because his legs are constantly in motion. Her son who is a little older than Hugh is a serene little guy with a shy smile and a mellow temperament. If her son is upset with something, he makes a little gurgle that gradually involves into a babyish cry. If my son so much as reaches for an object and misses it, he bursts into a squeal that shatters wine glasses.
Hugh has been this way since before birth. The other moms in the birth classes would excitedly put their hands to their belly when they felt movement. I would have to stand up and walk to get the little buggar to stop attempting to cartwheel his way out of my abdomen.
Last night, I had a flash of anxiety about it. “What if something is wrong?” I asked Tasha. “What if he really is ADD or something?”
“Why would you worry about it?” she said. “He is who he is. He’s happy and healthy and loving and spirited. There are real things in the world to worry about.”
She’s right. Sometimes I lean into worry before it’s real, anticipating the accident that never happens, the illness that never exists.
In reality, there is plenty enough to fear and mourn without fixating on the non-existent or the unalterable. Today, I am grieving for my dear friend, Jason’s, dad who passed away yesterday (Tim Krekel, a world class musician and young, lively father). I am worried for the protestors in Iraq whose voices are being supressed. And I am disheartened with our Governor who espouses family values (and not for families like mine) and then lies to his family and the people he represents.
So today, I’m feeling grateful for my little live wire as he wiggles away his way across the floor, alternately laughing and shrieking, occasionally tossing a glance my way as if to say, “hold onto your wine glass!”