The Seavey Family Blog

Here I sit again, 1:00 am on Saturday nite. I find that this is the hour that decides whether I am to sleep at all for the nite - or if I will be watching the sunrise again. I also find that that is a good time to think. The topics that run through my head are always diffrent, but always follow the same theme… “What If?”

What if what? You may be tempted to ask. My response – just, What If?

The farthest back I can remember thinking this way was when I was in kindergarten and lived in Michigan. They were simple What ifs then like –
What if mom doesn’t wake up? (Get myself breakfast and dressed, Heather would walk me to school).
What if the tall bridge that we had to walk over to get to school broke while I was on it? (Grab the railing, hold on and scream until someone comes to help)
What if Jill (the mean girl babysitter) makes us sit on the balcony all day with just water to drink and cottage cheese to eat? (Tell Mom, eat and drink as soon as we could get in)

As I grew up the What ifs changed – mostly because my sister and I were forced to take more adult roles. In sixth grade we moved to Texas, and my mother went into a deep depression, the what ifs mainly revolved around that. What if Mom doesn’t get out of bed this week? (Go to school as normal, make dinner and bring it to her in bed. If she refuses to eat – call Trina)

The older I got the more what ifs made their way into my thoughts. They have gotten to the point that I don’t even realize that I think “What if” instead I just always have a couple back up plans for anything that I could ever think of that might go wrong. As long as I can come up with one, I am happy and comfortable, but if I can’t figure out how to counteract a “What If” then I end up with a new concern. A good example of this is my fear or bridges. Not all bridges, just bridges that go over water. Here is how that What if goes:

What if I am in an accident and my car falls of the bridge?
If it is high enough everyone will die on impact (an acceptable end)
What if I survive the fall into the water?
Cut seatbelt, open window, swim to safety.
What in Mandy is in the car with me?
This is where my concern started… I don’t know what to do. How do I convince her to hold her breath - and let me hold her and swim us to the top? How do I let her know I’m not trying to kill her by not letting her breath, but that I am trying to save her life? I don’t know… Thus - my fear of driving over bridges.

I used to think everyone thought this way, but according to my husband, this is another oddity that is unique to me (and oddly enough, my sister too).

hm..