An unexpected gift of aging—the gift of waiting. Used to be, every thing had a time, and that time was yesterday, immediately or right now. Living in the moment meant exactly what it said. “But, Mom—I need it RIGHT NOW!”
Right now is good. In fact, it’s perfect. I find nothing to change or deplore about the present moment. But, surprisingly, “Soon” is good, too. And “Maybe” doesn’t pack the emotional punch it used to. If “Maybe” never happens, well that’s okay, too. I can live with dubious promises if that’s the best a person can give.
Three of my friends fell ill with potentially life-threatening issues this month. Each is waiting to see what their tests reveal. My mother is in the later stages of assisted living. I look at 2014 and see big changes. Waiting doesn’t hold the tight clutch that it used to when I was multi-tasking, afraid that something on my list would go undone at the end of the day. Now, waiting is simply—waiting.
I spent half an hour tonight watching the fog bank at the coast nibbling away at a strip of butterscotch sunlight just above the gray hills. Not much to answer for if I were to add it to a list of things I accomplished today, but maybe the most important.
Publication dates for my novels are underway. They will be released sometime in 2014. April and November, I think. I’m busy getting ready to bring them home. At the risk of sounding cheesy, it really is like the birth of a baby. But this baby will be with me for a long time. A week or two delay isn’t important, only that it is healthy.
"Wait a minute!" is what we used to tell our children, to teach them the value of patience. All I’m saying is, I think the lesson finally took.