Understanding Worry

This was written on December 19th, 2007:

I wrote this once, and then I deleted it. It was too important to just forget, and I am forcing myself to write it again. It's about how, until now, as I plan my trip to Africa, I have been able to sense worry amongst my family. This, I understand. But, I feel like there is something I am missing, a certain understanding I am lacking. Tonight, I think some insight may have been shed.

It was a busy day - School, interview, meeting, shopping, library, and Boston Legal. On my way home from watching Boston Legal at a friends, whose house I wasn't planning on going to tonight, I began my eventful evening. I was driving up Stone, towards Victoria. I saw a guy on the right side of the road burried in blankets, standing around. I looked at him as I drove by and he gazed back at me with wide eyes. I thought about the recent closure of Change Now, the youth shelter in Guelph, and all the issues around it. I then thought about what my parents would say if I picked somebody off the side of the road, or how unsafe it would be to stop. So, I stopped.

I looked back and there were not any cars, so I reversed about 40 feet, silenced the music, and rolled down my window. He approached only after I said hey in an unconfident voice. I was not sure what I was doing, what to say, or what to do. I asked how he was feeling, and he said aright. He then seemed more comfortable, and leaned in closer. My mind raced when I saw his face, the man staring back at me looked to be about my age, perhaps a mere 17 like me. I asked him if I could take him for a coffee or something. He said he was alright. I got a drift from the chilly winter wind and asked him if he was sure. He told me he had a friend coming to pick him up. I offered again because I was unsure if he was being honest. He sincerely said thanks, but said he had to catch the ride. I had no choice but to drive away.

I got home, to see my mom comfortably watching TV, watching a nine year old girl covered in makeup talking about her busy day. I sat in front of my mom, purposely blocking the TV, and explained what just happened. I was hit hard, and saddened. We talked briefly and my mom watched me closely. Then, I got up and told her I'm going to see if he's still there. I asked my mom where the blankets were and she went and grabbed me a blue comforter. As I rushed out the house she gave me a hug and told me to be careful.

I drove quick, worried about how long he might have been outside, and how cold it was. I got stuck at a red light and my hand shook as I waited. I was nervous. I turned onto Stone, and went to where he was. There was nobody there. I continue driving wondering if he maybe walked or was walking but the bare street had nobody for miles. I returned home, with the blanket, glad that he had gotten picked up by a friend. Now, I'm worried about the next night he doesn't get picked up by a friend.

After coming home and talking about Change Now, and how poverty has no geographical restrictions, I learned something. My mom reminded me that I was going to see much much worst next summer in Africa. I heard that hint of worry and felt surprised. I realized that perhaps that part that I do not understand was because it was worry that I didn't know about. The worry is not of safety, health, physical well-being, ability, or even separation. The worry is of my emotional maturity - whether I can survive a summer in Africa. For the first time, I feel scared of what I might see next summer. And, my appreciation for my parents and brother have deepened.

They seem to know something that I don't totally understand, but if tonight was any sort of insight, then I am at a loss of words. They support me in the journey, and the journey started a long time ago. I cannot thank them again, but can only have the same faith they have in me; I can do it, and I will.

Thank you Fy, Mom, and Dad. Thank you to all those who have supported and continue to support me. It means the world!