Saturday, January 5, 2008


Lately I am really afraid of death. The feelings of fear occur to me so often that it alone scares me. So I decided to categorize my fears and here they are of 3 types:

1) afraid of driving. I actually feel safe driving on city roads and under 110 on highways. If hubby drives 130 on highway, or if there is snow, then I get nervous. And the thing that I am most afraid of when driving are the big trucks on highway. I always follow them so far behind so that I have time to react if they flip over; or if I really have to pass them, I would have to build up my courage and cross my figures (of course in my mind only, I would not cross my figures physically when passing a big truck on a highway). Obviously hubby is not afraid of any of these things -- he would still drive normally (fast) on a highway, in the snow and beside a big truck. I would hold the handle really tight and feel a huge triumph after we have survived.

2) afraid of being shot. My hubby thinks this is nonsense. Maybe I have heard too many incidents of murder, gun shot, youth crime in Toronto on the radio recently. I know it's crazy. But when a stranger walks up to me in a hallway, parking lot or on the street, sometimes I suspect maybe he has a gun and I am in his way to finish his business. I am pretty sure all those innocent people who were being shot didn't know it coming either.

3) afraid of my husband dying of heart-attack. When I get so frustrated with my hubby's bad eating habit, I will have these imaginations of my hubby dying in his 50's of heart-attack. Then I get so sad I would cry for a while by myself. I feel unfair that I am only newly married and it's too early for me to be worried about my husband's health. Other than forcing him to eat fruits and vegetables and tofu, I can only be upset at his mom for not even teaching him -- simple as that -- what is good to eat. I find myself eating cake off his plate (I don't even like sweets) just so that he can eat less -- maybe I can take a couple years off my life and give it to him. At the end, what am I going to do with 50 years of my life alone when I live until a 100? It's a very selfish thing that I am doing. Because now I understand why people say that, the lucky one dies first.

* * *

Remember just 5 - 6 years ago, I was never afraid of anything. I lived in this new country alone, so excited about all the adventures and rarely thought of consequences. I would totally take risk, get drunk and enjoy the moment in any way that someone dares me to.

Today everything has changed. It's the fact that now I have a husband who I love very much and the responsibilities I have to take care of the family (us and our relatives) and the fact that now I own things (my gold and pearl jeweleries, RRSPs and our home) and the prospects of having children ... all of a sudden makes the future so hopeful and so much to live for; and health, safety and routine became so important to me that I would never have imagined. And only now that I feel deeper than ever that life is so precious but fragile, any unexpected things could happen to take away what I have and will have in the future.

I also remember a long long time ago I read in a magazine about the 3 things that define happiness:
  • someone you can love
  • something you enjoy doing
  • hope for the future
Now I have all of them. I also have a by-product of happiness, that is the fear of losing it.


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