Unspoken Fear

All of us have fears. Let’s not kid ourselves. No matter how bad-ass we think we are, there are things that send chills through us, deep down to the core.

I have a few fears, but one in particular, is a fear that I never voice. Why? Maybe because if I acknowledge it out loud, it may become reality. The sane side of me knows that’s not true. But then that little voice creeps into my mind…daring me to speak it out loud. So, I don’t.

Do you worry about your loved ones? The ones that are closest to you? Of course you do! If you don’t, you don’t have a soul and you might as well just quit reading right now.

My son is in the military, and I worry about him on each of his deployments. I always breathe a sigh of relief when he’s back home.

The person I worry about most though is my husband. Not because he is weak, or can’t take care of himself. He’s just the opposite. But his job is something that daily puts him on the forefront of danger. He’s a helicopter pilot. Not just any helicopter pilot. He’s a fire pilot.

While some say he has the “coolest” job ever, I see it from a slightly more realistic point of view. Yes, his job is exciting, thrilling and heroic, but those are perceptions that don’t reveal what his job truly is to me…dangerous. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate his job. On the contrary. I think his job is awesome. I used to fly with him all the time when he was on a news helicopter in the Los Angeles area. It’s a blast!! But the dangers he faces each and every day are not something most people experience or even think about. Every time he gets in that aircraft, whether it is on a training flight, or him and his crew are heading to a fire, there is the possibility of him not coming back home. We’ve had close friends and co-workers (I also used to work in the helicopter industry at a maintenance facility) that perished in helicopter crashes. I can’t even begin to explain the chill that goes right through me when we get news of another fatality. And while I know my husband is an ultra safe pilot and his aircraft is maintained impeccably, accidents do happen. Parts fail. There are bird strikes. Power lines become invisible during flight. Piece-of-shit drone operators fly their drones through the middle of fires where my husband is trying to put out the flames. I don’t see the need to get footage of flames up close, while endangering multitudes of firefighters on the ground and in the air. God forbid a drone is ever the cause of and accident involving my husband while he is flying, I will make sure that operator dies a slow and painful death.

So, every day my husband is at work, I have that nagging fear in the back of my mind. Is he safe? Is his crew safe? Will I get “That Call”?. On a few occasions, I’ve received phone calls late at night from one of his Captains. My heart stops when I see the caller ID. Do I pick up the phone? Do I let it go to voicemail? Do I want to know? But thank goodness, it was him calling me from someone else’s phone, because the battery on his died. *sigh*

While this fear is with me every day he is at work, I don’t dwell on it or let it consume me. I think if he realized how deeply it affects me, he would be bothered. And I don’t want him to be distracted at his job, worrying about me worrying. I pray that God keeps him and his crew safe. I pray that he comes home after his weekly shift. I pray that he makes it to retirement and we can go off and enjoy our golden years. But I also know that our plans for our future can be snuffed out in a flash. Without him, life would never be the same, especially if he was taken from me in a work related accident. So, I try to enjoy each moment I have with him. We’re not perfect and we have THOSE moments, but we always make sure we don’t part angry. Regret is a bitch I don’t want to live with.

 

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear.

~Mark Twain~

Lazy Overload

Pet peeves – I have lots of them.

Here is one that continues to make my hair stand on end. Capitalization. It might seem like a minor thing, but really! People! How hard is it to properly capitalize words? Apparently, it is very difficult.

Is it the insane strain on your pinky finger to hit the Shift button? Or does your brain go into overload, trying to remember what needs capitalization and what doesn’t? Whatever the case, slow the hell down and do it right!

One of my jobs at work is to process the online transactions. It blows my mind to see people write everything in lower case. Their name, their address, all of their sentences…ugh! I want to e-mail them and just ask…why??? Really! I need to understand why it has become acceptable to be this lazy. And yes, it just boils down to being lazy. Nothing more.

Monday mornings are always super busy with all of the online stuff. So, this morning was no exception. After about the third “lower case” transaction, I started to twitch. Not the way I wanted to start this day.

After eating two, yes I said TWO, blueberry muffins, I now feel like I can deal with the capitalization idiots for the rest of the day. But that’s only today. Tomorrow is another story.

Work is calling my name. Gotta pay bills. *sigh*

Peace out!

Not a Shred of Energy Left

Today is just one of those busy, busy days. No time to do anything, yet there are a million things to do. Writing should really be on the bottom of that list…but here I am. Amongst getting the animals taken care of, the succulents watered (which then turned into cleaning the dead stuff out of each pot, and replanting half of them), filing paperwork which has been piling up since early April, doing laundry, etc, etc…I walked past a mirror and thought I should really put on some makeup. I would sure feel better if I did. Most days I don’t care either way, but there are those days where I just want to feel prettier. So, as I walked into the office to start on my mountain of paperwork, I decided If I can’t take 10 minutes out of the day for myself, I have a serious problem. So much of our life is spent going, going, going, never doing what we want, but always what we have to. I truly wanted to put on makeup, so I did. Now when I hustle past a mirror for the rest of the day, at least I won’t look as tired as I feel. Loving yourself is highly underrated.

So, between filing and doing the laundry, I write. Then go back to filing, logging expenses, and once again I write. Just finished emptying the shredder. So…yeah…the shredder. This piece of equipment seems to be a silent battle between husband and I. But I think he’s winning the Lazy Man game on this one. We’ve gotten to the point where we just put the paperwork that needs to be shred on top of the shredder. Today, I finally decided to get rid of that pile, only to find out that it’s so full, that the paper is starting to back up into the blades. There wasn’t even any movement in the see-through window on the front. Yeah, it’s so jam packed, that it’s not even compacting anymore. But that means I have to take the lid off and risk a paper confetti explosion. FML! Now I know why husband started laying papers on top (I just followed suit). He didn’t want to be the one to empty it. I see what you did there, husband. One point for you. I go downstairs to grab a large trash bag only to get sidetracked with flip-flopping laundry. Maybe subconsciously I’m just trying to prolong the dreaded deed. So, I get the trash bag and confront my nemesis. How to get the top off, without making a mess? I had to inch it up and try to tilt entire container over the trash bag, without actually letting it fall over. That would just have resulted in a mess that would make me cry. I finally got the top off and gently placed it inside of the bag. Now I’m digging paper out of the blades…for days! Holy crap, I had no idea that much paper could be inside of the lid. When I finish that, without even cutting myself (it’s a miracle!), I dump the rest of the container in the trash. A 13 gallon trash bag is now half full, but I smile when I look at the now empty shredder. I feel accomplished. It’s a good day!

The paperwork is finally filed and I’ve logged the last expense on my spreadsheet. But it’s now already 6pm. Where has this day gone? Time to head downstairs and vegetate on the couch. I think I hear a book calling my name.

Peace out!