The story of should's and how things are

It has been a trying summer. I'd love to say that I have enjoyed walking the dog along the trail or writing or trips. But things haven't turned out the way I had envisioned them.

This business of having a story about how life should be gives me big trouble. I used to think lots of things with certainty. Lately, I seem to feel a little unmoored without the comfort of my story.

I hate coming to the realization that I am not in control. I know it intellectually. But  I keep getting the same life lesson reinforced so much that I feel like my rigidity has turned to mush. I worry that in the process I will lose my moral fiber or integrity.

I can't prevent the people I love from making life choices with impacts that portend more hurt and suffering, ... and even death. Of course, we all will suffer and eventually die. But why increase the likelihood? And then, I am off to the races worried about their health, their mental health, and their souls. It is like watching a train wreck taking place.

These feelings didn't start with my father's death this summer. This has been a cumulative piling up of things falling apart. But Dad's death reminds me of his impact on my life and this business of hypervigilence and the belief that I need to try to control life.

In the midst of the chaos in life, my heart still feels. It feels love. It feels betrayed. It feels confused. I can't tell if this is between me and the people in my life, or if this is between me and God.

On the other hand, things could be worse. I took the dog to the garden with me yesterday off-leash. He stayed close for a while and sniffed deer tracks nearby. Before I knew it, as I became engrossed in picking squash, he left me. When I realized he wasn't there, I whistled a call he usually responds to. But no Finn.

I walked around the area. No rustling of leaves in the woods nearby. I rushed to the house and got my daughter and the car. We drove to look for him. Our first check was a neighbor's down the hill. I tried to stay calm, but inside I was panicking.

My mind was busy imagining how he had low vision and might get into trouble if he went too far. What if he made it to the C&O trail, and as friendly as he is, got in the car with someone? Another thought was how he'd been picked up at a shelter before the Collie Rescue folks got him. Maybe he was a runner and was just waiting for the right time to leave us. Or, I have a million things to do and I don't have time to be doing this right now. Then there was the persistent thought, I am so in trouble with my family and the Collie Rescue people if I can't find him.

Our neighbor said he had been visiting his place but went back up the hill towards our home.

Sure enough. He was back near the garden, looking happier for the expedition. And, my thoughts were: bad dog, you gave me quite a scare, and damned if you don't look happy.