I crack my right eyeball. He’s up on his left elbow, leaning over me, staring…
…at the clock, I guess, on the nightstand next to me. Then he’s fiddling with his phone. Did it go off? Or not? After I complained about the radio blasting strange music at weird hours and having to wake up and stretch so far across that I nearly fall out of bed, and then having to shake him awake, he took to setting his phone alarm. On vibrate. He lays it on the bed right between his Tempur-Neck and my soft feather. He hears feels it. I don’t. Go figure.
Finally he gets out of bed, bumps the footboard in the dark, opens and closes a drawer. I count as he thumps downstairs. It’s 5:15. It’s cold. I burrow under the covers and doze.
Until he comes back up, fed and showered, turns on the light, gets dressed, slaps on some Canoe, bends over to kiss me goodbye, turns off the light, thumps back downstairs. I hear him open the closet door and close it. The garage door rattles up, then down. I hear tires crunch gravel, and the sound of the motor fade as he drives away.
I reach for my phone to check the weather, possible school closings.
I don’t think he turned the heat up in here.
A sudden wave of fear overwhelms me. I catch my breath. My heart starts to race. I envision a tractor trailer slam into the little white Saturn on I-96. The car spins and tumbles down an embankment.
How will I find out? Did it happen quickly? Did he feel anything? What will I do? How will I act? Will I be strong? Hysterical? Will I faint? What will I write for an obituary? What songs will we sing at the funeral? Do I know where all the paperwork is, who to call? (No.) Should I stay in this bedroom? Sell the bed? Sell the house? What should I keep? Give away? How will I survive widowhood? Will I just curl up with his bathrobe? Should I get up and take a shower and be ready for the call?
I’m not kidding. These thoughts are racing through my head. I’m freaking myself out, practically convince myself he’s not coming home.
Stop it! Just stop it!
And breathe.
Pry the fingers of fear off your throat, away from your heart, out of your mind.
You’re fretting about something over which you have no control.
You’re wasting this moment with worry.
You’re frittering it away with fear over something with about as much substance as the fog that hangs outside.
Someone compared worry to a fog that keeps us from seeing things as they really are–that a deep fog covering several blocks is actually made up of less than a glass of water.
I open both eyes wide.
The fog lifts. The dark dissipates. Faith wins.
But I do think my husband and I need to talk.
Still fearless (mostly),
Sandy
Joining Lisa-Jo and the Five Minute Friday sisters today as we fight the word prompt fear.
Confession: I think I slid into seven-minute Friday.
Adding to Bonnie’s Jam on “trust”
I feel you, sister. I go there far too quickly, too suddenly, and then I’m terrified when the phone rings and it’s just the state troopers asking for money, not calling to tell me the just found my husband. I like what you said about the fog, that’s what fear is. A fog. And I don’t know where the paperwork is, either. I can’t even access the bank accounts online. Maybe we should have a talk, too.
…just the state troopers asking for money. LOL.
I got the bank accounts down. But it’s those things like insurance and long-term money management… I went so far as to google “what to do if your husband dies.” There’s a difference between healthy and unhealthy fear…
it comes so fast
so strong
icy fingers indeed
blinding us to truth
breathe deep
exhale
Oh, little poetry this morning. Thank you, Karin!
So… I didn’t know this… “that a deep fog covering several blocks is actually made up of less than a glass of water.”
that’s cool.
And the fear thingie. As someone once told me — negative fortune-telling is just your way of avoiding getting out of bed in the morning.
LOL — so glad you got out of bed and into your day.
A beautiful post — very powerful and insightful. Thanks!
Negative fortune-telling. There are some words to think about. And I might not have gotten up if I hadn’t needed to get the grandgirl up. 🙂
You craft words beautifully, Sandy! I always feel serene when I visit here, recognizing the stillness and your quietness before Him. Love it!
I’m so thankful FAITH WINS ~ it wins, it wins, it wins! Amen:)
You bless me so big, Stefanie. So big.
Oh I think every wife has been there. Imagining the worst. Creating the deep fear and anxiety of ‘what if’s’… my own best friend lost her husband of 25 years to cancer and I did wonder, worry and pray about what I would do… in that situation. Another friend just weeks ago lost her husband of 37 years, and the lost shadow of brokenness follows her now.
Yes we imagine the worst and become thankful when we realize it was only a ‘dream’.
Good reason to stay deep in God . Something *will* happen at some point, and oh how we’ll need Him then to dispel those shadows of brokenness. Lifting your friend up right now.
Oh, Sandy, thank you for this! You can’t know how it spoke to me!
I’m glad, Sylvia.
I think we’ve all experienced those unfounded fears and worries sweep us away from reality. You expressed those feelings so perfectly here, Sandy!
Blessings!
And yet sometimes our worries aren’t totally unfounded. My husband does spend a lot of time on the road and has for a long time. Sometimes I stand amazed that nothing bad has happened. 🙂
I do that, too, Sandy. Always have. But it never happens the way I fear (always something I never thought to be afraid of).
Yep. It’s a waste of energy because it’s always like that–never the way we imagined. Though, someone once said that’s a good reason to worry–it’s what keeps what you fear away. Because, see, what you worry about doesn’t happen. 😉
I have had similar thoughts when I couldn’t get ahold of my husband on the phone or when he was late coming home. Fear has power…but I’m so thankful our God is more powerful!
It’s so easy to let our imaginations go wild… Thanks for coming by, Janet. I’m so glad to “meet” you.
Just read that worry is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do but you never go anywhere…
My husband had a heart stint put in his LAD (the widow maker) a few months back. It’s strange because when he had no health problems, no high cholesterol, or high blood pressure, I didn’t worry much. Now I can wake in the night in a panic. I roll around next to him and don’t go anywhere and neither does he. I don’t wake rested either.
That’s a perfect definition of worry, Dea. And sometimes my husband snores, which can be so irritating. But when he’s still and not moving, I feel fear and have to reach out and touch.
I smiled big when I read this – but then with a little chagrin thrown into the mix. It always amazes me how quickly I can get from the first little prickle to planning the funeral and trying to imagine life without ________ (fill in the blank with any one of my close family). Fear is an enemy. . . when it’s not a friend, advising you to take care. (How come your new commenting system makes me sign in all my info every time?)
..when it’s not a friend…
I don’t know about the commenting…or why I have to approve some who’ve visited before. I’ve got a Q in to the Dude.
Oh mylanta…I’m not the only one who does this?!?
striving to put it back into the glass and celebrate it’s only half full. thanks for the new perspective!
Hi, I’m visiting from Bonnie’s FaithBarista blog. I so get this fear you are describing. Here’s praying that Jesus will burn off the fog for us.
I am finding your post echoing memories of how I used to image worst case scenarios….now I try to image best case scenarios isntead! I have heard it said.. that fear is
False
Evidence
Appearing
Real
Sometimes that helps othertimes I must just keep speaking scriptures to dissove it. Faith wins every time!
I so admire your honesty in this. I have gone through the same motions when my husband goes out to move the car and hasn’t returned in 45 minutes. I went so far as to call the police one time when his phone kept going straight to voicemail, but of course it’s NYC so they weren’t interested in an overly anxious wife. 🙂 Thankfully he was just circling the neighborhood looking for a free spot. Fear can be so powerful.