V’s mum is coming over to take Nicolas for swimming class. I know it’s going to be alright, and that she’ll do her utmost to take care of him, but still I can’t help but be overwhelmed with concern and fear. It’s water, it’s dangerous, she’s old and not so strong anymore as she’d think, and sometimes her mind is everywhere but on the task at hand.
That’s the thing about having a family, with having others so near to you, to your heart. There’s the danger, always lurking, that suddenly that which is so previous will no longer be there. Because you can’t be with them always and ensure all’s going to be alright. Outside life takes over and you have to be somewhere else, away from them. And letting them out of sight seems akin to sit back and wait for that dreaded phone call, the kind which comes out of nowhere. And I know that no matter what, she won’t look after her in the way that I do, she’s from a different age and culture about these things. And, and, and.
Life is dangerous, I know. You can even die from it. I know the chances are incredibly small; I can read the statistics and note that not many toddlers died from having their grandmother take them to the public pool. So he probably won’t, either. And I know that it’s incredibly good for him to be used to water when he grows up. So I shouldn’t worry so; but I can’t seem to help it. They get so under your skin. I can only find comfort in the thought that I’m sure my thoughts were exactly the same with K, wherefore I know these thoughts will ease on me, somehow. Look much forward to that. Very much indeed.