Yesterday morning I got a call from my mom. "Can you come home tomorrow?" she asked. My parents had been out of town for several weeks and were getting ready to leave on yet another little excursion. "Sure," I said.
As soon as I hung up my mind immediately began piecing together an elaborate narrative of all the things that could be wrong. Somebody's sick. They've decided to move. On and on my mind went taking me to dark portals each more daunting than the next.
When I finally arrived my parents were in good spirits. We sat and caught up. Had a wonderful dinner and even watched a quarter or two of a football game. The night couldn't have been more pleasant.
When I got in my car and made my way home I considered how often we invent ridiculous stories about events that will likely never happen.
As Mark Twain once said, "I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened."
Our minds love making up stories to explain the unknown. :)
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