Worries

After we'd returned from taking a long walk around Loose Park this week, she said something that just struck me.
She said, "I feel like all you do is worry about me."
I retorted, "It's the vast majority of what I do."
She isn't wrong. I find myself always worried about her well-being. I tell myself that the benefit is that I drop whatever I'm doing if I hear an abnormal thump in the house, and I rush to her. However, the worry is what keeps me tired all the time.
There is one thing in particular that worries me the most. I'm male and diabetic. That already shortens my life expectancy. She's also much younger than I. There is a very high probability that I will pass before she does. I'm worried because there is so much I do to take care of her that is not intuitive, and would be a learned skill over time. Who will pick up this banner when I fall? I don't know. It's the thought that she may end up having to teach someone how to take care of her that sometimes keeps me up at night.