My dad passed away this month, April 28, 2006. He died in his sleep…and he was out with friends the night before having fun, so we didn’t have a chance to worry about him. I’m sure, I know, he worried about us, but in a way he didn’t…he encouraged us, especially me who has had so many life changes and moves over the past 20+ years.
I received the letter above in the mail, in New Orleans, from him after I was separated. I don’t think I was even in a frame of mind to absorb what he was trying to tell me. I worried a lot. After a month of living in the hotel I worked, with my dog and cat, eating McDonald’s 49 cent burgers, I finally saved enough money to get my own apartment in the French Quarter for $550 a month. (I say that because it’s almost quadrupled now) I then graduated to 99 cent red beans and rice packaged dinners and slept on the only piece of furniture I owned, an old sleeper sofa. I cried a lot, worried a lot, felt alone and then took on a new position at work just to make more money so I could worry less. I worried more. I re-grouped, tried again, failed again and kept trying; not sure where I was going.
My anxiety always existed, at times more than others and I perceive this to be hereditary in a way because my mom, who passed away at 39 years old from leukemia, was chronically anxious as I remember. She loved us so much and worried about us so much. A scrape on your elbow; arm may need to be amputated. I’m sure my brother would agree with the heredity thing. I was always up and down, but I could never figure out where to pinpoint my anxiety…death? money? sickness? No…I think it was more failure in life, failure in relationships, failure of love, just failure. Period. And I would worry about those I loved to the point it may have put that love in jeopardy. For example to worry about someone who is away and out of phone contact for several hours does not mean they are dead and permanently out of my life. Really, that’s what I would think. I knew this happened and I could not control it. I was not one to get help though. I learned to be independent.
About 4 years ago, my niece had me read a book called You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay. In that book there was a positive affirmation for those with anxiety to state over and over and it read (cannot quote without the book but…) “I love and approve of myself, I trust the process of life and know that I am safe.”
It clicked…I AM safe.
This led to a complete change in my outlook and anxiety. I no longer worried as much as I did. I made wonderful changes to my life and my health and felt an inner balance I had never experience! I then found a lifestyle that brought me in control of my life (for the most part), made me feel wonderful and confident in myself and relationships.
Last year I had some hurdles to leap; some decisions to make about my career and whether to climb that huge mountain to become an artist full-time. I worried again. Then, as I was cleaning out the attic storage; throwing out stuff I hadn’t touched since my divorce, I found a few, again, life changing things. First, were some amazing figure sketches I made when I was young, maybe 18-20 years old. I realized I can make some great art. And second, folded up still in the envelope, was this letter from my dad. I realized I cannot worry. I am safe.
Although worry has not completely vanished in my new journey, life works out some how, some way.
In case you cannot read it above, here it is:
“There are only two things to worry about: Either you are sick or you are well. If you’re sick, you only have two things to worry about…either you live or you die. If you live you have nothing to worry about. If you die you have only two things to worry about…either you go to heaven or hell. If you go to heaven you have nothing to worry about. If you go to hell you’ll be so busy shaking hands with old friends you won’t have time to worry. So why worry!
Love you,
Dad”
Denise Morencie 