Future Tense

Any parent worries about their children, and with all of his problems, I worry a lot about Errol’s future. But what good does it do? Every time I express my worries, a wise friend urges me back to the present, “Worry is like interest paid on a debt you don’t owe.” she says (take a second to figure that one out!). She's right not to hurtle 20 years ahead (especially when we don't even know what tomorrow will bring), and it's true that it’s better to live in the moment, but try as I might, I am hardwired to always think in the future tense (I’m thinking about tomorrow’s lunch right now).

I guess I've come a long way from not knowing if Errol would survive the day, to dreaming about his adulthood, and I'm not even sure how productive all this worried speculation is. Our dreams for our eldest child Owen are so boundless, but with Errol I find myself being practical and circumspect. I don't want to have different dreams and limits for my kids, but as much as I believe that our perceptions can influence reality, my boys still live in significantly dissimilar circumstances. I find myself hoping that Owen might be an architect, chef, writer, middle manager (ok, not really), musician, or whatever will make him happy. With Errol, my great hope is that he might be able to have a job, any job. I hope that maybe, if we're lucky, Errol might be a grocery bag boy (curiously, the baggers around here are either white people with disabilities or African Americans-but that’s a whole nother story). Now that Errol is making strides at school, my dreams for him are getting bigger (I mean, if George Bush can be president, surely Errol can at least be Governor or something), and I imagine the world opening up for our baby boy. I know that it’s best not to think about Errol's future (who knows what life will be like in 20 years, or if I'll even wake up tomorrow), still, I just can’t break the habit of hope.