Fear and Parenthood

Fear is an interesting thing. A while ago, I said "Fear seems to have left me." Which is mostly true. It's not like I have shrunk from challenge in my life because of fear, but certainly there has been some level of it smoldering under my decision making canopy over the years, whether it be professionally or personally. Sometimes fear is healthy, sometimes it is good. Sometimes it can be extremely destructive or at least counterproductive.

Over the past couple of years, I have made a conscious decision to "not fear anything." At least not for more than a brief period of time, which may be considered terror anyhow, not fear. In the face of certain loss, you realize that fear is generally counterproductive. In the face of death, you realize that fear is useless.

As I pondered my recent trip to see U2 in Atlanta, a bit of fear snuck in...what if...a plane crash, a car crash...something bad might happen and then where would the girls be? Well, you can either be paralyzed by these types of thoughts or you can feel them and then let them go.

None of us knows when our time is up. I'm not saying I will live my life recklessly, for I know I have more responsibility now than ever, but nor will I shrink from opportunity, adventure, productivity or life in general because I fear a possible future.

As you probably know by now, I went to Atlanta, I spent good quality time with great friends, had a fortunate meeting on the plane with an ex hospice grief counselor and learned some great ideas, went to cool places, got in the Georgia Dome with 90,000 like-minded fans, got a pass to get on the floor (Fedexed in from one of Heidi's dear friends from college) and when U2 opened up, I was 20 feet from the stage. I held my arm up in the air with "4 Heidi" scrawled on it and cried during Walk On. By myself, yet surrounded, I felt somehow comforted in the throng of humanity and the warmth of the message that the song provides.

The Girls and I are all going to Hawaii. We will take Heidi with us and we will let her go where she wanted. A lot of you have contributed to this journey and we will live it. We will love it for whatever it is, and I will write about it too, so you can share it with us. We continue to thank you and to be thankful for you.

Peace,
B.