said my son this morning as I swiftly took up a spider in a tissue and set it free out of the front door (as Chloe screamed on the stairs ;-)).
"Yes I am," I assured him.
"Like what?"
But before I had chance to answer he was distracted by the school holidays hyperactivity that sets in on the first Monday of the break and he'd rushed off into the garden to play football with our crazy dogs.
I was left washing the breakfast dishes with my thoughts.
I'm not as afraid as I used to be.
But I'm still scared of some things:
- I am scared of not being a good enough husband. Chloe deserves only the best. I just hope my best will always be good enough.
- I'm scared that my son and daughter and 3rd unborn child are growing up in a world with so much cruelty and evil. It scares me that one day they'll be out there as adults faced with it.
- But I'm even more scared of being an over protective parent. I believe children have to make their own mistakes and, to some degree, discover the ugliness of humanity for themselves in many ways. It's what teaches us to protect ourselves.
- I'm scared to death of losing those I love. Aren't we all?
- I'm scared of a side of my character I know lurks somewhere. I have a tendency in the difficult times to disappear into a hole of my own self pity and it's during these times I push everyone else around me away. I am scared that side of myself is still there somewhere, though I haven't seen it for many years now.
But as I type this up sitting on the floor in a newly painted baby bedroom with a laptop, I know that in reality my fears are no different to those of anybody else. Will I be a good enough parent? Will I be a good enough spouse? Will I be just good enough? Will I be ok? Will those I love be ok?
We're human. We're all scared of something. It's life.
And when I look at my little family and our 3rd soon-to-be arrival, I know that the fears are worth it. Because for every moment I spend worrying about them all, I have a hundred moments of sheer, unrivalled joy.
