Fear not!

Think of three things that daunted you in 2012: how are you going to work towards overcoming them in 2013?

When I began 2012, I think the biggest fear I had was death. Probably that is in the background of every person's march through the year, sometimes with good reason, and sometimes simply because of some crazy paranoia.

In my case, it was a little of both. My wife was seriously ill, and was placed on Hospice early in the year. I had nothing wrong with me, except the normal aches and pains of every day living. I was the caregiver. She  could not dial a phone in an emergency; she probably would not have realized that there was a problem. I think you can understand why I was daunted by this situation. And the question in my mind as I walked out to the driveway to put out the garbage on a Tuesday evening was simply: What if I keel over while I am doing this? When would I be found? How many hours, or days? And more importantly, how would it work out for my wife? This was seriously daunting!

I managed to make it through the year, probably better than many expected. Fortunately, I had begun a walking regimen during the winter months in early 2012. This continued through the spring, and summer. In the summer, I joined a health club and went there on a regular basis when I had coverage at home. The walking, the exercise, the repartee at the club all added up to a rather healthy lifestyle. I was fit; I had good conversations; I lightened my load.

Being on Hospice did not portend longevity for my wife; rather the opposite. I was able to see her through to the end, despite the doubts and concerns of many. Indeed, despite my own doubts.

So, I enter 2013 with a much clearer slate than last year. Death will not be one of the prevailing fears; I can face the challenge (with my sad happiness) of living with possibilities, not fears; opportunities, not circumstances.

I can walk out to the driveway on Tuesday with abandon. I can shovel a neighbor's driveway and walkway. I can walk out into the fields in my new snow shoes on a stormy day. There are endless moments of healthy living without fear. And my departed loving wife will be guiding me as she has always done. (She will worry for me and fear for me. Thank you!)