I don't usually park in back of the daycare center, but the few spaces in front were full so I drove around to the parking lot. The view past the chain link fence and the playground is of the south side of the city where we lived when we first moved to Pennsylvania. The mountains in the distance were softened by fog. It was humid, but there was a breeze and some sun after days of rain. The birds were singing. It was Friday. I was feeling happy and then as usual, I began to list the possible disasters that could befall me this weekend. I thought of two: 1. something could happen to the house in the Poconos since I had to turn off one of the circuit breakers to the baseboard heat due to over heating. 2. Something could happen to my daughter who is a heroin addict in and out of treatment for the last seven years. I had turned off the circuit breaker to the offending unit and turned the heat down to 50 degrees, so I was not particularly bothered by the house issue. It has been warm all week so not much heat would be needed. I know who I can call to fix it when I am up there next. There is nothing I can do that I haven't tried before to help my daughter who will be 40 on her next birthday. I'll keep trying when I can, when I see her, but for now there is nothing I can do. So I dropped my grandson off at daycare and went to work happy that it was Friday and it was sunny and warm and I had the weekend before me.I realized that my anxiety level has decreased significantly since my husband died. The daily worry about him falling, or getting cancer again or just waiting, waiting for that day to come when it would end is gone. The worst thing that could happen has already happened. The worst thing that could happen has already happened. The chores that I have set for myself-the painting and cleaning and de-cluttering and rearranging-will pull me through the next months and maybe over a year as I prepare to live the rest of my life without him after 42 years. The worst thing that could happen has already happened.