My Time at the Inn

The Worry Box I had a lovely wooden box, and in this box I put my worries one by one. My worry over my sister-in-law's sudden illness; my concern for my brother when she passed away. The box became a little heavy, but I could still bear it. I added my worries over my husband's surgery; the responsibility I had to administer his eleven different medications; my lack of sleep since he must get up every two hours to go to the bathroom, but still I carried the box. I add the worries of blood clots and infections he might get from the surgery. I now had to use two hands to carry this box.  Still it had room, so I added to it my concerns about my own upcoming doctor's appointment; would my cholesterol be lowered, because I refuse to take the drugs, will my doctor refuse take me as a patient?  The box began to take on a new appearance, and the light golden brown turned dark, and not nearly as lovely. Still, I added more worries to this box, but now it became onerous to...