Lying awake at night

Three years old, lying awake in bed worrying about dying and going to heaven where I wouldn't know anyone. My mother assured me that my grandfather, who was in heaven, would know me.

That wasn't much comfort to me, a frightened three year, who didn't realize her mother was simply mourning the death of her father. I spent a lot of time in my early years worrying about when I would die and how it would go.

Five years later I had changed my thinking. I realized I would probably not die for a long time, but now I worried that those I loved might die before me.  I would lie in bed thinking about how young my parents were and how they would probably live until I was very old. They were 21 and 22 when I was born.  And . . . since I was the oldest sibling in my family and basically the oldest of my cousins I should never have to mourn the loss of anyone I loved.

Still I worried.

Nobody really important to me died during my childhood and I was married with children before my grandma and great aunt died. It was hard. They were close, but I had children and a husband now and I was realizing people didn't have to die to leave. They could leave by divorce. I was back to lying awake at night.

My mother died suddenly when I was 36. I was devastated. For five years I had asthma attacks, nightmares, depression. My husband left a couple of times, but the last time was right after all the children were out of the house and I was almost fifty. Then my father died a year later. Suddenly people were leaving me right and left. It was terrifying.

Now my brother is obviously close to death. Maybe not weeks, or even months, but who knows. He has a DNR on his refrigerator and even though he is my little brother, he is very ill. He was supposed to die before he was three. We grew up knowing he would die, but he was too full of it. He was the one who would never have kids. He had four. He is 64 and  a great grandfather now but I am less ready now than I was when he was a baby.

It seems people are always leaving. One way or another, life is a solitary road where I may walk side by side with those I love, holding their hands, gazing on them with love, but never really having a real grasp on them.

Heaven? I don't know if I believe in that anymore. I want to. I'm just not sure. I do believe in wind and rain and earth and that this world is all one and I think I am reconciled to becoming part of that with all those I love some day.

But, sometimes, I still lie awake at night.