The Other Shoe

I envy those people. The ones on the news looking shell-shocked and glassy-eyed after a tragedy, shaking their heads in bewilderment. They never thought "it" could happen to them, in their community, to their children. It never occurred to them that they could be a victim of circumstance, of violence, of misfortune.

For me, I expect nothing less. I'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for that catastrophic event that will send my charmed life into a tailspin. Waiting for that piece of devastating news that will separate life into "Before" and "After".

The fear keeps me up at night, thinking about what horrible disease or predator or disaster lurks around the corner, stalking those I love most. Every mention of a headache or sore limbs signals something more sinister in the kids. Every time my family members are a bit late coming home, I imagine the worst. And as the kids get older I know I have to give them more independence and trust that they have heard my constant harping about safety and good choices. But it's hard. If I did, what would happen to that shoe?

I'm not just neurotic about my loved ones -- I assume the worst for myself too. A mark on my skin must be cancer. The headaches that have plagued me since childhood must be something life-threatening. Spotty memory must be early onset Alzheimer's or something equally horrible. And for days I've been waiting on test results from a mammogram and ultrasound, waiting for a call from the doctor's office receptionist, all calm and soothing, asking me to come in. Waiting to learn of some malignancy or what those abnormal shadows mean. Waiting for the shoe to drop.

Today, I got an envelop from the clinic and inside was a form letter with a box casually checked off telling me my exam results were all normal. Come back next year.

I'm thankful for the clean bill of health but strangely enough, the news doesn't flood me with relief. It just clears way for the next potential crisis, the next hidden hurdle, the next disaster-in-the-making. Because I know it's out there. That other shoe can't stay up forever. Unlike those people on the news, it won't take me by surprise. I'll be ready so that maybe, just maybe, I can catch the other shoe before it hits the ground.

Democracy

The day is here. Election day. For the first time in my 24-year voting history I was at a total loss. I've been a conservative forever but I couldn't see electing Jim Prentice back into office. I had no clue as to what was the best path, the lesser of evils. And believe me I tried to figure it out. 

I researched, trolling website after website, reading about the platforms of each party. Checking out the promises if elected. Of course, nowhere did they lay out how they would actually find the money to make good on those promises, but that's a problem for another time. Post-election time. And what did I find at the end of it all?

Really, there are no great choices out there. Pundits predict change, an NDP government, which scares the crap out of me. The PCs have had 40+ years to get it right and haven't. Wildrose seems like an extension of the PCs, with politicians crossing over at will. Liberals are a non-starter. 

I thought about spoiling my ballot but that seemed pointless. Perhaps I could decline the vote -- I've heard that doing this registers dissatisfaction in a different way than just mucking up your ballot. And I think about all of the people around the world fighting and dying for the right to cast a vote, to make a choice, and I felt that I needed to do something. To make a choice too. But how? Even as I stood at the little cardboard partition, staring at the strip of paper with that tiny golf pencil in my hand, I wasn't sure.

In the end, I put an X beside a name I am pretty sure hasn't got a shot at winning (but if she did win, it would be okay). It was more a vote against than a vote for anyway. This is democracy? Frightened by the prospect of any of the front-runners taking office? 

It could be a long four years, Alberta. Buckle up. Hope you all felt better after tucking your slip of paper into the box than I did.