Holding On Too Tight

“I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” I said anxiously to my husband, who was gasping for air. He had insisted on helping me with the yard work, even though he lives with an incurable lung disease. Being outdoors often worsened his condition. His every cough, gasp or wheeze put me on edge or pierced my heart.

“I’ll be okay,” he said. “Don’t worry so much.”

But I did worry. Lately I had been imagining all kinds of fearful scenarios about him. What if he couldn’t get out of bed tomorrow? What if he needed to be hospitalized again? What if I couldn’t get him connected to his oxygen machine in time?

“Are you sure?” My runaway fear was causing me to hold on to him—and my caregiving—too tightly.

“Honey,” he repeated, “I’m okay.”

I looked at him. His breathing had normalized, and he really was okay. I realized I was the one who needed to take a deep breath now. Breathe in, and breathe out. Let go, and let God.

No matter what the day brings, I must put him and the future in God’s hands—where they belong. And in doing so, I can let go a little more, relax a little more and better enjoy the time we do have together.