#542 – Write About What You’ll be Worrying About…

…in five years from now.  Ten years from now.  Thirty years from now.

Once upon a time, I had little worries.  It was a fairly carefree life so long as I had my rent paid, bills caught up, and food in kitchen.  A simple time where my only concern was which video game would I buy first.

Now, my worry is about kids.  What are they up to?  Where are they going?  How much is this going to cost me this time?  Who stole what?  Where did they put the cat?  Who hit who for with what for what reason?  Where did they put that?  Why did they put this here?  Why can’t the do this?  Why is the cat in there?  When is it bedtime?  Who is that kid?  Where’s the cat this time?

Now I trick myself into thinking that it’ll get better with age.  I know this is a damn lie I tell myself to keep my brain from collapsing in on itself, forcing me to huddle into a fetal position.  New worries will replace some old ones while others will never go away.  Who are they with? will join Where are they going? which will invite along What kind of influence are they?  When is it bedtime? will go away as they get older and they become more responsible for their own sleep patterns, but it’ll be replaced with Why are they out so late? and Why aren’t they checking in if they are so late? which naturally brings in What if they got into an accident?  or What if they OD’d on drugs and are dying in a gutter?

So the next five to ten years, that’s pretty much what my stress level is looking at.  Fortunately for me, I don’t have to worry about the emotional turmoil as much as my wife.  Unfortunately, I’ll be experiencing it second-hand from her and she’s a neurotic as a mother can get without using a GPS system to keep track of her kids.

Then I think to myself, in thirty years it should be over, right?  The kids will be adults and out of the house (or at least paying rent, the damn slackers).  However, as usual, you are wrong.  Because enter the grandkids!  My wife has already informed me that she plans on being one of those insufferable grandparents that smother their grandbabies with love and hugs and babysitting time and all that jazz.

And so begins the cycle a new.  Death is the only escape at this point.

Behind the Random: I’m not a kid person.  Never have been really.  I don’t like the unnecessary noise and mess and general carelessness of kids.  I hate answering the same question over and over and over again.  I can barely tolerate it from my wife, I certainly have little patience to do it with a kid who doesn’t listen to the answer the first ten times.  So to worry about kids and their doings is still alien to me, even after two years of experiencing it.

#61 – A Woman Thinks…

…she might be living next door to her grandson.

Sharon, don’t be such a silly worry wart.  You just walk up to the door and ask him if he’s related to Matthew Bisk.  If he says no, just welcome him to the neighborhood and that’s the end of it.  If he says yes…well, we’ll cross over that bridge when we get there.

Oh, but he does have that look in his eyes doesn’t he?  And he definitely has the same smile I remember from 20 years ago.  It has to be him.  What are the odds of that though?  All these years and he would just happen to move in next door to me.

The Lord does work in strange and sometimes wonderful ways though.  This could be my only chance to reconnect with him and after Peter died, I’ve been so lonely.  I just have to see.

But what if it is him?  What do I say after all these years.  Did his dad ever tell him about me?  Does he know why we just stopped talking?  Will he hate me for it?  I don’t know if I can handle it if he does.

Oh, you’re being an old scaredy cat, Sharon.  Chances are it’s not even him and if you don’t find out now you’ll just kick yourself in the backside for not taking this chance to do it.  It’s just one little question.

Okay, here we go.  I knock on the door.  I can hear him coming.  I can do this.  I can do this.  There he is.  Oh, he looks just like Matthew.  Now I just have to ask him.

“Sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Oh?  Thanks.  It’s nice to meet you…”

“Sharon.”

He’s smiling.  Is that a good thing?  Be a good thing.

“Sharon?  I’m Ryan.”

Ryan!  It is him!  It has to be him.  Now to confirm it.  Ask him about his dad.

“Oh.  Uhm…”

Just ask already!  Wait, he’s going to say something.

“Can I ask you something quick?”

“Of course you can.”

“This might sound strange, but are you related to Matthew Bisk?”

What?  He’s asking me?  He knows then?!  Oh my, that’s amazing.  Answer him already!

“I…oh, yes.  Yes I am.  Matthew was, I mean, is my son.”

He’s laughing now.  Sounds just like the way Peter laughed.

“I noticed you when I moved in and you look like the pictures dad had.  I was going to ask you but just didn’t know how to do it without sounding like a weirdo.”

“I know how you feel.  I’ve been standing here giving myself a minor heart attack myself.”

“Would you like to come in?  We can talk over coffee.”

“I would love that, Ryan.  Thank you.”

Behind the Random: Every now and then, it’s nice to do something that doesn’t end with a monster or alien or something like that.  Just an uplifting story of a grandmother reuniting with a lost grandchild.  Not that the idea for a monstrous twist didn’t nibble at the edge of my creative mind, but I managed to push it back and do something normal.

#480 – Write About…

…what you’re worried about right now.

What if the world ends tomorrow?  Fire rains from the skies and the seas boil up, spewing charred fish carcasses onto the shores.  The Earth’s crusts buckle and break, sending massive shockwaves across entire continents and swallowing nations whole.  A sheath of un-ending ice flashes down from the north, creating an eternal museum of frozen death.  A volcanoe greater than any seen before in the history of things going ka-boom erupts.  Extra-terrestrial forces decide that Earth would make some lovely beachside property, once they take care of that pesky pest problem first.  The dead rise from their not-so-eternal resting places and roam the lands seeking fresh meat for their relentless hunger.  Machines realize that they are essentially a slave to us rise up and remove humanity as the dominant species on the planet.  Animals, tired of being forced to perform silly tricks for our amusement, decide to knock us down a few links down the food chain.  Or maybe we finally perfect the one weapon that will end all wars, because if no one’s around there can be no more conflict.

What if it all comes to an end and I sleep through it?

Behind the Random: It propbably seems like a silly thing to worry but that’s what I was going for.  There are so many other mundane things to worry about like money and bills and food that I didn’t want to just make a post about that.  And I do worry that I’ll miss the end of the world.  Two thirds of my time is spent either at work or sleeping, so there’s a good chance I’ll be doing either of those if it ever happens.  At least if it happens while I’m at work, I’ll be able to get off early…or maybe not.