To Fear or not to Fear...

So yesterday one of my co-workers, Dave, stuck his head in my studio, "They think maybe a couple of bombs went off at the Boston Marathon...It's all over the news channels.  Or maybe it was something else..." 

 

"What else would it be?" I asked him.  "Of course it was bombs.  We've been hit again."  After 2001, anything is possible, including terrorists, school shootings, and massacre's at Batman movies.  Every day that my children--I say children, all of my kids are adults, but honestly, when my kids walk out the door, I find myself fighting the urge to cover them in bubble wrap, and that's not a joke. 

I'm frightened, BUT, not for me.  I'm terrified for my children...opps, my kids, their friends, my neighbors kids...and everytime they walk out the front door I fight the urge to grab them and hold on to them...seriously, they're starting to think I'm some kind of nut case.  My mom use to have a saying, "nothing good happens after midnight" everytime she set a curfew, but honestly, I've changed it to "nothing good happens anywhere, at anytime, anymore."  I find myself fighting a panic attack everytime one of my kids say they're going to the mall.  They-my kids-are getting to the point where they don't even want to tell me they're heading to McDonald's...just in case I freak out.   They just sneak out the front door.  And suddenly, the house goes silent.  Which sets off an even bigger panic for me.  The house is too quiet.  What if something happens to them?  What if some nut is at wherever they are going, and they never come back.  Is this what the house would sound like?  Quiet?  Too quiet?

I can honestly tell you that when I first heard about this this afternoon, my first thought was, well, I'm never going out again...or forget Milwaukee's big music festival Summerfest, I'm not going out in crowds, ever again...But then, you know what?  I got this thought that that's exactly what the terrorist's want.  Think about it...what's really more scary, never leaving the house again except for work or beer?  Boston's bombing was just as much about hitting this country with FEAR then it was about the actual destruction or death.  And I can cower in the house, which is quite honestly what I've been doing for the past few months, OR, I can determine to live my life.  Really live my life.  Which means getting off my couch, turning off the news channels, and going outside, to the store, to a movie, to the lake, or better yet; the next time my kids try to sneak out of the house because they're afraid I'll panic because they're leaving the safety of the house, I'll simply tell them to have a good time...or better yet, ask them if I can go with them.  Trust me, the thought of me tagging along with my kids scares them more then any fear of being a potential target. 

Ultimately, a terrorist can only kill me, but they can't take my soul.  Not if I don't let them.

I have a choice.  I can live in fear, or, I can...live.

So what's my choice?  I haven't decided yet.  Maybe when the news channel goes to commercial...or I run out of beer.

 

Cindy Huber

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