As I contemplated writing this story, I was reminded of how many things I’m afraid of… spiders, snakes, the wind… the list goes on. I realized just how many things scare me. Talk about a swift kick to the ego!

I had settled on writing about the fear of losing a child, and how close I came to experiencing that loss a few years ago. Thank God, our son made a full recovery, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. Losing a child is a tragedy that no parent should have to bear, and I couldn’t think of anything worse. It's just not the way things are meant to be. But, it’s also a fear that most parents would say is at the top of their list of experiences that they could not endure. So, I decided to write about something that is more unique to me.

I have been thinking a lot about my future lately, and although getting older beats the alternative, it’s a daunting thought. I am not afraid of death. I’d rather avoid it if I can, but the Lord and I are close, and I speak with Him daily. When it’s my time, I know I’ll be in good hands. It’s the aging part that terrifies me. It isn’t the loss of life, it’s the loss of living. I am afraid to lose the things that connect me with my world. The thought of not being able to see, or to hear, are terrifying to me.

I have begun to wonder what the hands of time will take from me as I age, and how much I will miss those things that once meant the world to me… the things that make the difference between being alive and really living. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like not to be able to see the ocean, or hear the crashing of the surf against the sand. And, if the last time, was the last time, how long will that memory live in my heart? How would I cope with never seeing another sunrise, or watching as the sun sinks into a beautiful orange and pink horizon? I would be devastated if I could never write another story, or lose myself in a book.

I can’t envision what it would be like not to see my children’s faces. Or how it would feel if I couldn’t see them smile, or cry… What would I do if I couldn’t look into their eyes and know if they were happy or sad, or if they just needed a hug? I can’t bear the thought of not being able to watch them get older, or see the love in their eyes as they look at their children, or the one true love that they have chosen to spend the rest of their lives with. I want to see my daughter walk down the aisle and profess her undying love. I want to be there when my children have children, to look into the eyes of that brand new life, and let them know that grandma will always love them.

 My heart is so full when I am surrounded by my children, and their families. It’s a house full when we’re all together. It’s loud and crazy and I love every minute of it. But that happiness turns to heartache when I imagine not being able to hear them laugh, or banter back and forth, just like they did when they were kids. I live for the times we have as a family and the joy that surrounds my children when they are all together. I am so touched by the tenderness and love all of my boys show to their only sister. She is the third child of six, but she is the queen bee in her brothers’ eyes. I want to lock those memories away forever, and never forget what the love between my children looks like.

My heart breaks knowing that all the moments I have held onto may someday become a distant memory that I reach for… but can never touch. I fear that, given time, even the most precious of those memories will fade away, and I will no longer remember what my children look like, or remember the sound of their voices.

I fear that someday, I may no longer see the love in my husband’s eyes, or answer when I hear, “Grandma!”. But my greatest fear is not to be able to look in my children’s eyes, and hear, “I love you, Mom”.