“Hi, it’s me. I forgot to ask you to be sure you ride in the second or third car of the train. Thanks.”
“Wow, you are awfully close to the side of the road. Don’t get hit by a car.”
“Bike ride? Um, sure that sounds like a good idea. Are you going out alone?”
“Hi, you said you’d be home around three and it is three-thirty now. Just checking in. Can you call me as soon as you get this? Thanks.”
“Have fun. Be careful. Drive Safely. Call me when you get there. Love you. Don’t forget to call.”

I have never been an overly protective person in a relationship. Generally speaking I am aware that living life is a risk. Now I can add to that bit of wisdom the fact that no matter how careful you are, how often you go to the doctor, whether you exercise regularly or sit on the coach eating bon-bons all day, wrap yourself in protective gear and never do anything deemed dangerous by any expert…you are still going to die. Cancer strikes the healthy vegan; heart attacks kill runners as well as smokers as well as those who have never touched a cigarette; very strong athletic people who obey all traffic laws get hit and killed by cars; and accidents of all sorts end the lives of the unsuspecting.

So when my new husband walks out the door, I sometimes take a deep breath remembering when Phil last walked out the door. Phil never came back. I try not to project one situation onto the other. I remind myself that I can’t control the things that happen in life and will have to roll with whatever punches life delivers. But I have to tell you this, sometimes the things I know scare the hell out of me.