Waiting

So much can be said in such a small word. The word carries so little facts, but its impact is left to one’s own experiences. Some are minor inconveniences, like waiting at the checkout counter for the cashier to ring up your purchases. Others can be quite lengthy, as with those who are waiting for a loved one to return from war. The anticipation can make the waiting enjoyable or something that is dreaded.

Waiting for something pleasurable was for me Events such as Christmas morning to arrive, the birth of my children and grandchildren, and the publication of my first book. That those events were to be happy moments didn’t make them come any faster, but I was nervous, in a good sense.

There also periods of waiting that are filled with dread, know the outcome and wishing that it not come true. They were things that were inevitable and I wished would never come, but came anyway. Most of these were times of sitting with the dying. I sat at my grandfather’s side in the hospital, holding his hand. I sat with my kids and my mother-in-law waiting for the death of my wife. I watched as my mother deteriorated from the mind stealing disease of Alzheimer’s disease and seeing her health follow the decline of her brain. My father passed away with me at his side, his labored breathing was a relief when his time on earth ended.

Much can be read into the word waiting. Many times it reflects the most recent occurrence that has happened to me: joy, hope, dread, fear, minor annoyance, or major interruption in my life. I can’t see into the future. I must wait to see what will be my next episode of waiting.