By Annick Robinson
Last week a salesman at an airport asked me to look in a mirror at his beauty kiosk, and worry about aging. I’m a mom, I pretty much worry professionally.
These are just some of the things I worry about:
I worry about my sons being healthy and happy.
How disconnected this generation is.
Bullies in school.
Getting to see my kids grow up.
Raising my kids right and protecting them.
Doing the right thing even when its hard.
I worry about financial security and having enough money to see them through whatever education they need.
I worry about the refugee crisis, and war and famine, and children being scared and hungry all over the world- and how powerless I feel in general about the big things.
The mole on my husbands back.
The kids in the Oncology ward at the hospital down my street.
I worry about getting enough sleep so I’ll do well at work.
My car starting because its been having issues and I need to pick up my baby from daycare on time.
Making sure I take care of myself and my marriage.
My mom’s blood pressure.
My newborn niece and the world she will grow up in.
Getting my taxes in on time.
My cat who is old and getting older.
Drivers who text and drive.
Catching up on my email.
Remembering my passwords.
Not having enough time for my friends.
Getting my teenager through his teenage years.
Helping my kids develop their passions.
My cracked tooth I need to get fixed.
Having the time to cook healthy meals for my family.
Getting to my to-do list.
Keeping my commitments.
Deadlines and wifi access.
Slowing down once in a while to take it all in.
Sleep. There is never enough.
When the baby will sleep through the night.
The laundry. The dishes. The chores.
Is the alarm on?
Cultivating enough joy so my kids remember this time that way.
Did I mention sleep?
I could go on, and on, and on.
Don’t ask me to worry about getting old. It’s the one thing I have no control over, and I need to remember to be GRATEFUL about and savor every minute that I can.
I’d rather count my blessings than the lines in my face.
Perhaps you read about the banter that went viral in the news yesterday that brought us to this post here today on WomenOnTheFence. Annick just happens to be my old fitness instructor. I too worry about so much of the shit above.
I feel like on this sunny Friday in April, we all need to channel Meghan Trainor, “Untouchable, untouchable. You need to let go. You need to let it go.”
Do you worry about aging? Tell the truth…