So I think I've told y'all before that I am a reformed worrier.
Seriously, there was a time when I could have won the Olympic Gold Medal for Giant Slalom Worrying. I was good at it, y'all.
But I hated it. It made me miserable. I wanted to change.
So I set about teaching myself not to worry. I got some help with it. Now I don't worry. And I've gotten really good at
not worrying.
But sometimes - sometimes - I worry. Although worry is not really the word. I don't so much worry as I ruminate. I think there is a difference.
Last Saturday, Lola almost got hit by a car and killed.
Scared. Me. To. Death.
We were walking along the sidewalk. Me, Lola, Finn. Busy Street - lots of speeding traffic. The lady across the street was sweeping her front porch and her husband was in the yard.
The next thing I knew, the lady was screaming bloody murder and I look over there and their Westie had made a break from the house and was coming at us like a speeding bullet. Right into oncoming traffic - going both ways.
She was screaming. I was screaming.
And the next thing I knew, a car was whizzing by, laying on his horn because Lola was halfway out in the road, making a bee line for the Westie. I jerked her back just in time.
Maybe I'm being dramatic. Maybe it wasn't that bad. But it scared me. It happened SO fast - as I suppose tragedies often do.
But there was no tragedy. The upshot of this story is that no dogs were injured. The Bean is fine. The wayward Westie was snatched up and got swatted on the butt with the broom on his way back into the house. Finn barely looked up.
But it's four days later and I'm still ruminating on what
might have happened. Every time I look at her all I can think is of how quickly she could have been taken from me.
This really bothers me.
I mean, GOD BLESSED ME. I reacted swiftly, I snatched her back to safety. I should be rejoicing. I should be on cloud nine.
But I'm not. I'm ruminating and feeling bad because something
could have happened.
Now in my defense, Finn and Lola are my weak spots. I live in constant, unreasonable and ridiculous fear that something will happen to them.
Once, in an effort to
just stop it, I tried to imagine every ridiculous thing that might happen to them - just to jog myself out of it. But there was nothing, not even alien invasion or stampeding zebras in Charlotte that I was willing to rule out. That's how ridiculous I am. If I'm willing to consider that aliens may invade and kill my corgis, you can imagine how frightening speeding cars can be.
So that's where I am. Ruminating. Focused in the wrong place, on the wrong things. I feel like a failure. I feel like a sinner. I feel like God may think I'm ungrateful. I have prayed about it, but somehow, I still find myself replaying the whole thing and feeling bad about it.
Perhaps we can never really not worry about those we love most. I don't have children, I have Finn and Lola and their health and well-being is my responsibility. I just want them to be safe and well.
Still, I don't want to ruminate like this. It serves no purpose.
So I keep trying to do better - even though I sometimes fall short.
Please keep your fingers crossed for us.
Image from here.
