Worry. Concern, and Letting Go (plus, another book)

First off, before I forget, I finished another book with one of my very favorite characters, Dismas Hardy. It took me a couple days to finish John Lescroart's Dead Irish, but it was very good, and I am glad I found it on Paperbackswap.com. (BTW, if you haven't checked that site out, do it. What a great idea, and what a convenience. Love, love, love it.)

So, on the other things. For a few months, the Carolina-dook game has been on my calendar, me waiting with eager anticipation. But something came up: my sister is having bypass surgery tomorrow. Suddenly, the game isn't the biggest thing anymore.

Then, I feel a little guilty, because it is still a big deal to me. Very, very few people get this about me, but Carolina Basketball is part of who I am. I won't equate the season with my family (sister, parents, husband, or my kids), but, dang, is it close. I know I shouldn't, but I still care a great deal about the outcome of that game. If something happens bad in NC, then the importance of the game will recede, I am sure. If I was asked to, I would miss this game. But the thing is, I would remember that I was missing it. Does this make me abnormal?

So, the title of this post is Worry, Concern, and Letting Go. I have never worried about things in my entire life. If you have control, and it needs changing, then change it. If you don't have control, then you get concerned, but that is all--you can't fix anything, so why worry? Concern is different--you care, and you anticipate an outcome, and you pick up pieces when you have to, but worry? Nah. Now, I am in the middle of a situation over which I have no control, I am concerned, but it is completely someone else's to deal with (my son's). I have to let this go, but I am still very, very concerned about the direction of his life. But I have to let this go: it isn't mine, I can't own it, and I can't fix it. Letting go is so hard.

So, Go Surgeons! Go Jaymi! Go Sam!

Go Heels! Beat dook!