It was early evening and raining when I entered the highway driving home from work today. I immediately thought that it was dangerous to drive under those conditions, but I hoped & trusted that everything would be fine. I felt that way because every time I drive I feel a keen awareness that driving is one of the most dangerous things we do every day and that there is a real threat of getting into an accident and getting killed.
That's why as I was driving earlier today I thought about my greatest fear as a mother. I don't know if I shared this here in the blog before or not, but after I became a mother my greatest fear is of dying and leaving my sons' mother-less. I'm not afraid of dying, not one bit (well, I'm sure I will/would be if I knew for sure it was happening), but in general I don't think much of it, but the idea that my sons won't have me anymore while they're still young and need me terrifies me.
I know the boys would be OK in the end (though it would be positively awful if both K & I died), well cared by any of our family members (yes, I think that my parents, my in-laws, any of my brothers- & sisters-in-law, my brother & wife and even extended family members such as aunts, uncles, cousins, would do a wonderful job caring for our sons), but I still feel sad to think that I wouldn't be around to comfort them and help them and mother them. And, believe me, this is not about me, but them.
Good thing they're growing and becoming more independent, etc. I think every year that goes by will make it easier for me, little by little, to let go. Because I guess that in the end this feeling has to do with my need to be needed by them -- especially since they don't need me even half as much as they did when their nourishment depended entirely on me as well as 100% of their physical care.
One of the saddest things I've ever watched on TV was a documentary about this young mother in Canada whose own mother had early onset dementia or an Alzheimer type degenerative disease and who had had genetic tests/ analysis done to determine whether she had the gene that would doom her to the same fate. Even not knowing, she already did lots of things that would help preserve her mind while it was still cognizant -- such as writing incessantly all her thoughts in a journal and recording audio tape messages to her children.
It turned out that she did have the gene and seeing her reaction was simply heartbreaking. She began to actively record tapes for every milestone of her children's lives and to try to prepare to lose all her mental ability and memory. This, in fact, sounds worse than actual death, doesn't it?
Well... I will stop here, my apologies for the gloomy subject. I do have one more post in me about a related topic, but I don't know if I'll write it now or later. And, hopefully, my sons will still have me for years to come!
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