I'll be honest: today I got nervous. I called my parents in the afternoon and no one answered. This happens often, no big deal. Sometimes Mom is taking a nap, sometimes there's no reception, whatever. Usually I get a return phone call within a couple of hours. But three hours later, I called again and still didn't get an answer. Worried, I texted Ross to see if he had heard anything. Within a minute of sending the text, my phone rang and it was Mom, her voice cheerful and clear as a bell.
She had been entertaining guests during my later call and had been enjoying a live production of Fiddler on the Roof during my earlier call. Between the two, she lounged outside, soaking up the sunshine and snacking on strawberries, carrots and apples that Ross had brought from the farmer's market.
I love being wrong when I'm worrying. For the obvious reason of nothing being wrong, of course, but also the Aynsley reason that every time I catch myself needlessly worrying, I can talk myself out of a future anxiety easier.