My mind likes to wander. Sometimes it daydreams of sunny beaches and grand adventures to interesting places. But too often it wanders to the "what ifs" in my life. What if our house burned to the ground? What if Quinn lost his job? What if we were in a horrible car accident?
The other day while taking Eliza to school, my mind wandered into What If land. What would I do if suddenly Quinn died? Who would I call first? How could I possibly tell our children, or his parents? How would I react? Would I be strong for my children, or would I crumble to the ground and not be able to move until the pain subsided, which would be never, so there I would stay, in a ball on the ground forever? On and on this continues in my mind, while tears stream down my face. Over something that hasn't even happened. But my fear is so strong, it feels real. Finally I chastize myself, and shake my head, and sniff up my tears. I have to pull it together before I get to preschool. What will I say when someone asks what is wrong? "Nothing, I was just thinking about my dead husband, who is not actually dead, but very live and well." That makes perfect sense.
And again, a few nights ago, I worked on painting Eliza's bedroom until about midnight. I left the windows wide open in her room to help air out and dry the paint. I shut the door and then locked it (the lock is on the hall side of the door....which is a great story for another time). The act of locking the door from the outside starts a strain of thoughts I cannot control. Why would I lock the door? So if a robber came through the open window they wouldn't be able to get through to the rest of the house. As I lay in bed, desperately trying to sleep, knowing morning would come all too soon, my mind strayed again. What would I do if I heard that robber in Eliza's room?! First I decided I would wake Quinn, grab Eliza and lock ourselves in Corbin & Sol's room so at least we would all be together. But wait, if I could make it to the boy's room, why not wake the kids and run out of the house? Ok, yes, that's what I'll do. Run where? To the neighbor's? No, probably around the corner up to the Crawfords, because we could find help and comfort there. Oh, but wait, don't forget the cell phone so we can call the police on the way! What if we didn't all make it out? On, and on, and on until finally I have to get up and take a Xanax at 1:00 in the morning, even though I know it will make me groggy in the morning.
Does everyone do this, or is it just me? Or maybe it's a Mom thing, kinda like the worry and the guilt?
I do find comfort in one thing. Even if all these bad things or other terrible things happened to us, I know that my family is Eternal. That if we get separated in this life, that we will be together in the next. That Jesus Christ has paved a way for my family to overcome death and separation. That through his miraculous resserection, we too can live again. Time and time again, this is what pulls me pack to reality, helping me know there is no reason to fear.
