Some worry, still happy

I happened to be at my grandmother's in the late afternoon yesterday, which meant that when 5:00 rolled around, I tucked her into bed and headed home. Yes, the sun was still out and I had only been out of my own pajamas for a little over two hours, but at 94 she can stay up as late, or go to bed as early as she chooses. As I drove, I thought about how comfortable she looked propped up on her pillows, watching the SU basketball games with her corn bag heating pad draped on her shoulder. My mind wandered back to all of the times our roles had been reversed with her sending me off to slumber.

Maybe I should have said a little prayer with her like she used to do for me. Oh my gosh! What was that prayer she used to have me say with her?!?!?! Surely it wouldn't all come back to me, and scare the five year old out of me still...

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take

God bless [insert list of important people and animals here].

(slight shiver)

Ah, there they were-those words that left me crying on more than one occasion. I remember one particular time when my grandmother asking me why I was crying, and my response being that I did not want to die in my sleep. (Clearly my neurosis was not of an adult onset variety.) My grandmother, who was in her early fifties at the time, tried to soothe me by saying that part was for old people like her and my grandfather. More tears-more fear!

In addition to this being another tender memory I have of my grandmother and I together, it also made me giggle at the notion of worrying. There was no way for that five year old teary faced girl to know that she would spend over thirty more years with her grandfather, and over forty (and still going) with her grandmother. There is still no way for me to truly know what is worth worrying about, or to accept the notion that maybe nothing is actually worth worrying about-so that is what the jar of peanut m&m's is for.