This is really weird. Last night as I passed by my writing table, I got the strongest urge to write in Tony's journal. I didn't. I crawled into bed instead, but the thought in my mind grew to a scream, "Write in Tony's journal!" So I crawled out of bed, retrieved the book crawled back into bed and wrote by the ambient light in the room. That's not so weird, but this is: What I wrote was not what I was planning to write. I was going to write about his cold and how he slept all afternoon yesterday. But my hand seemed separated from my brain and I wrote something different instead.
Here's what I wrote: Hi Tony, I felt I had to write tonight to let you know how much I love you. We never know what will happen in this life; how long we'll be here. But Tony, please know that I love you so very much. My whole being just aches at the thought of something happening to you. I also fear something will happen to me - robbing me of the opportunity to see you grow up.
Honey, I don't know what prompted me to write this. I almost feel like it's my last message to you.
I follow this with a written prayer for safety for our family. After this prayer my hand and head seemed to reattach themselves and then I wrote about Tony's cold and his nap.
This morning I read to Angelo what I'd written and he startled me with his words. "I've had a foreboding for sometime about you," he told me. He's concerned about me because I have mitral valve prolapse, a heart condition.
I asked him if I was subconsciously picking up on his worries and it spilled out into Tony's journal last night, but he wasn't sure.
Please, we need some assurance especially from Daddy bloggers that Angelo is experiencing Daddy fears much in the same way Mommies have Mommy terrors.
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