The Worrier

I am a Worrier since birth- okay maybe not quite that far back, but as long as I can remember I have been one.
I believe it started when my sister came into this world and all the attention went from me to her--
Do my parents like me as much as her? How come everyone is watching her just sitting there drooling? My god do I belong to this family?

Things became worse when I hit the school years--- I worried about my animals, about my friends liking me, what I was wearing to school that day, my grades, boys, teachers.

My worry hit an obsession in high school with an all out eating disorder--- OMG I just ate half a sandwich how am I going to work this off before dinner- will I just be gigantic? So and So only ate a quarter of their lunch.... I really wish I could tell my high school self to chill the F out about the eating thing....after I finally let that obsession go (it took several years) I really learned to enjoy food and eventually like my body. And really where would I be today if I wasn't enjoying every single baked good creation I make? That would be a very sad state of affairs.

Adulthood has me worry about "real" life things. Big things like: Student Loans, House Payments, Getting Married, eventually having kids
Smaller still important things like: Staying warm and not losing my freaking mind in the winter, staying employed and busy, not becoming a hermit, learning not to be so much of a crazy person when people annoy me or do really stupid things that I just can't help but say something about.

My worry can sometimes get out of control for example: I often worry about my cats when we leave for a few days....in my mind this spirals out of control in the following way: What if the cats get hurt while I am away??? Good lord they could jump up on the table and it could fall on top of them, and they could be stuck there crushed with no one to help them! It would be all of my fault....
Or one other example (and this is probably why Ellery hates traveling with me): "Ellery don't you think we should leave early to get to the airport-- it says we should be there 1.5 hours early---" "Sarah if we left now we would be there 3 hours early" "Well that's probably okay- I mean there could be a million people there and we could be stuck in line and never get to our flight..."......which leads to us getting to the airport and sitting around forever- which than leads to my next worry: "Ellery do you think it is going to snow/rain/blow/hurricane and we won't get to go on our trip? I mean this could happen! Aren't you worried? Why aren't you worried???"

The thing is I know when my brain starts to travel to this worry zone. I can feel my heart start to race and the rush of irrational thoughts sweep over me. It is like the part of my brain that is control of normal reason and calm has been blanket by this worry/obsession. It makes it worse when someone tries to tell me just to turn it off- or if I give myself a hard time about it and start asking why am I like this?
Sometimes it works just too focus on something else: The ocean, baking a pie step by step, patting the cat. But sometimes this worry monster takes over for several days....especially in situations that I know I can't control, and where the outcome isn't clear.

I hope someday I can learn to let go of this fear of worrying- that I can be a little Zen and say "what will be will be" but I come from a long line of worriers. (Don't even try to talk to the Havener family about driving in snow). At times I think it can be beneficial, but most of the time it is not...
Anyway enough on this rant....I gotta get up and moving as I'm worried about what is going on today.

My Grandfather- Austin Havener

My grandfather Austin died when I was 13 years old- 14 years ago today. He was a lobsterman, avid clammer, and all around great man. It's hard to imagine that anyone you love can have left this world- let alone watch several years go by.
My grandparents Austin and Louise use to watch my sister and I after school growing up- so I was lucky enough to be able to spend lots of time with them--- I would of argued when I was younger that it was too much time, but I'm happy that my parents had us go over there--they were the best example of Great Maine Grandparents.
Not surprising I equate most of my memories of my grandparents with food- Fried Ham Sandwiches in butter after school (they ate dinner at 3:30 pm, and people complain I eat early at 5:30!), homemade buttermilk biscuits with mashed strawberries and sugar, cookies from the cookie jar that my grandmother would sneakily eat even though she had diabetes (she would only take a half at a time), and Easter dinners with boxed confetti cake made into the shape of a bunny.
I loved my grandparents intensely-- it also helped that my grandfather would always hand out dollar bills to all of his grand kids whenever we saw him.
Austin once built me a swing off of his "shop" it was a really high off the ground sort of swing so he would have to watch me as I was up there since I was pretty little at the time--- one day I was swinging and jumped high off the swing because I spotted a face painted on a rock across the street---My grandfather had painted it there for me (and probably for everyone) to see. I'm not sure why but he would change it's expression from time to time--- perhaps dependent on the weather.
There was also longgggggggggg rides to my Aunt's restaurant for lunch (11am?-omg I'm figuring out where my insane eating patterns come from as I write this)---I swear we would be in the car for half a day before we would get to Union eat a very slow lunch and then drive another half a day home listening to very old country music. I learned the concept of a Sunday drive from my grandparents.
There was other things I remember: My grandfather mowing his lawn all the time, board games, Listening to the VHF on who was getting pulled over or in trouble in town (Long John and Pantyhose were my grandparents code names on the VHF).... Get togethers at my grandparents house: Christmas Eve get togethers, Huge Easter Egg Hunts, Summer time BBQ's with wiffleball. I missed all of this so much after my grandparents passed.
The death of my grandfather was a huge event in my life- it was the first person I was very close to that died- and I loved him with all my 13 year old heart could muster. I was devastated by it, and I was just as much when my grandmother died a few years later.
However- I am so incredibly lucky to have had the time I did with them- and I'm also lucky to have family members that remind me so much of them. Like my Aunt Lynnette who is just this incredible person- she reminds me so much of a combination of both of my grandparents-- she is such a tough lady but she has one of the biggest hearts. And of course my Father- who I thank God for everyday that I am blessed to have as a Dad--my grandparents left me with the greatest gift- of having him as a dad.
I truly believe that a person does not die if their memories continue to stay in the hearts and stories of their loved ones. It has been 14 years since my grandfather has passed, but I can still see him clearly in my head riding his tractor in the field across the street. Love and Miss you Gramp.