Allow me to set the scene: The King questions, as much as states, “Everything going well with us.” It is precisely that scene, playing through my mind on an endless loop, that prevents me from answering as Anna does: “Everything going well with us.” Maybe it’s because I know that in the next scene, the proverbial shit hits the fan.
I recently attended the funeral liturgy of an old family friend. I found solace in the entire service knowing that this guy was going to enjoy an afterlife of sunny beaches and peace. So just as I settle into believing that everything is going well with us, the undertakers begin their slow walk up the sides of the church toward the altar and, ultimately, the casket.
I try not to worry. I allow myself to be lulled into complacency and even denial. I deep-breathe. I pray.
Worry is what wakes me at 2:30 am. For all of the denial of the day, night brings stark reality. What have I forgotten to do? How will I accomplish the next big task? Am I doing the right thing? Why do I do this all the time?
Will our cars last another year or more? Will everyone’s health hold? Will those termites we found in the mulch cause any problems?
Am I reaching my students? Am I being too negative? If I go down and drink a glass of water to quench this thirst, will I just wake up in an hour to pee?
I hate that moment in our Roman Catholic funeral liturgy. I want to shout at those guys “Just stay where you are, buddy. Move along. There’s nothing more for you to do here. I think we’re entirely capable of ending this Mass without you sneaking up there to smack us into reality.”
I’ve been awake for an hour now – I think I’ll go drink a big icy glass of water.