This has been a rough weekend to say the least. I am by nature a chronic worrier. Maybe it’s an Irish thing. Maybe it’s a Catholic thing. Or maybe it’s just a me thing. Whatever it is, I worry.
So when my brother told me what feels like forever ago that he was in fact going to be deploying (for the second time) I immediately began to worry. And worry. Now, the day has arrived where he leaves and my good byes have been said. I got to see my brother a couple weekends ago and it was awesome. I had a blast. But the whole time I was with him all I could do was worry. What if…?
Now, this past weekend I received some troubling news about my grandmom in Philadelphia. And all I can do is worry. What if…?
I don’t like to worry. But I don’t know how to stop. Because, what if…?