"Scanxiety"

That's a neat marriage of two words. It's a word that flies in the face of what I try to practice concerning things I cannot control. Nonetheless, even the word stirs feelings that lead to fear, helplessness, hopelessness, etc. Even as my mind races down these "what if scenarios," my anchor in faith reminds me to not worry.

Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?

January 18, 1990. I was your typical 4th grade boy. Ruining pants requiring my mom to patch them up after sliding for soccer balls on the field or diving across the school floor to see how far I could slide. I didn't own a stain-free shirt. My hair was rarely done in any presentable fashion because what 4th grade boy in rural Missouri cares about any of that? Not this one. 

In 1987, my babcia moved to live with us from Gliwice, Poland. She couldn't speak any English, but boy could she cook some good Polish foods. She helped my parents take care of my siblings and me every day. As she grew older, she started to slow down a bit and had some health-related issues stemming from a hard life in WWII Poland and thereafter. 

In January of 1990, my babcia was in the hospital for a while with heart issues. As a kid, I never thought much about it but remember hoping she'd recover and return home quickly, as she had done before. Sure enough, my babcia was released from the hospital on January 18th and came home. I remember her sitting at our kitchen table after a long day and running through the bedtime routine. Each kid would tell her "Dobranoc. Ja kocham Cię," while giving her a hug before we ran upstairs to cozy into a warm bed. To this point, this night was not unlike any other.

I recall very vividly the dream I had this night. I dream a lot. Some silly, nonsensical. Some life-like. Some terrifying. However, this dream was one I wish I could have more frequently. This dream was an encounter of the eternal with an endless feeling of love and hope. I recall seeing nothing but whispy white all around me, as if I were in a cloud. In front of me, slowly being revealed in a suspenseful manner as these bright white clouds lifted, I saw a large throne, two feet and sandals. The very typical view of what one would expect God's feet and lower legs to look like. As I stood there a short distance away from God, my babcia emerged from behind the throne, and walked towards me with a comforting smile that put me at ease. Though I knew my babcia couldn't speak English, she stood in front of me and said, "Don't worry."

After those words were spoken, I woke up in my bed. On the walls of my room, I noticed red and blue flashing lights coming from outside. I heard a commotion downstairs. So, out of curiosity, I scurried downstairs to see what was happening. On our living room couch, I met my great grandma (my dad's grandma) sitting on the couch waiting to give me a hug. I asked her what she was doing there, confused as she's never there that late. She informed me that my babcia had to go back to the hospital and that everything was going to be OK. Since I had school the next day, she assured me everything was OK and to go back to bed. So, off I went, back to bed upstairs not realizing the weight of the dream I just experienced moments before.

When I woke up for school that cold Friday morning, my mom greeted me with tears in her eyes. My babcia passed away in her sleep that night. She told me I could stay at home that day, or go to school if I wanted to. I chose to go to school. When I got to school, my principal and teacher greeted us with warmth and compassion. I didn't really know what to say or think, nor how to act. So, I behaved like any normal day. Fridays were all school Mass day. The first thing we did was head over to Mass. It was at this point, kneeling during the Eucharistic Prayer, that my dream flooded my eyelids, recalled from the night prior. I broke down. I cried in front of everyone. My babcia was no longer with us.

Fast forward to now, many years later. The memories of that day still play in the reels of my mind like a recent movie. I want to remain accurate and honest in my recollections so as to not fill things in with made-up memories. I think often of the impact that dream had on my formation into adulthood, in how I handled any number of challenges, hardships, or tough decisions. Even still, when I recall everything I just typed up, a hard lump forms in my throat. My emotions are still trying to process a supernatural gift that has guided my response to opportunities of growth throughout my life. Because of this brief but impactful encounter, I strive to maintain the weight of all situations on the scale of eternity. I know my scope of control only applies to my response and emotions to events. Of course I know we all have responsibilities and actions that must be carried out in order to maintain status quo, but I can only control what I can control. My feelings of anxiety, fear, hopelessness are all within my control. I know of an eternal good that exists regardless of any moment in history perceived to be bad. Goodness wins, even when despair seems insurmountable. It can all be boiled down to a much simpler approach in life; don't worry.

God is good, all the time.