A long line at the supermarket makes me twiddle my thumbs and wish for a fast-forward button. I have similar feelings about stop-and-go traffic. All the wait, wait, waiting takes time away from the people I love and the activities I hold dear.
And that kind of waiting is the easiest – you can see the finish-line and you know that if you hang in there, just a few minutes more, the line will end and the traffic will part. But what about the longer kind of waiting – the kind that entails transitioning to a new life stage?
The ‘stage of life’ wait is more abstract, and the blurry outline provides room for all sorts of what-if questions and worst-case scenarios. What if I don’t get into college? Can l find a job with an art major? Will I like working as a marketing associate?
Surely you’re familiar with these questions – we’ve all had them. I woke up with ‘what if’ questions on mind, mused about them while I sipped my coffee, and then tossed them aside to go hiking with my husband.
I remind myself that it’s impossible to control the future, but I can work diligently, here and now, to enjoy the present.
my grandparents had the kind of love that inspired movies and novels, and as far back as i can remember, i wanted to be just like them. i wanted to find someone that would be my best friend, someone that even after 20 years would make me run to the door when i heard their key in the lock. city dwellers would say that i was a child bride at 26, but in my head i was pretty late in the game for sharing a lifetime of memories with someone. when i met jon, however, i found that all the waiting only made the finding sweeter. i look back and i suppose i don’t mind the waiting at all — it just becomes part of the story.
today i wanted to make ginger lemonade and serve it up in a midwest wineglass, and i had to convince myself about the value of waiting as i went. the cutting of the lemons and the drying of the glue was a bit trying, but i just kept thinking maybe the lemonade would taste all the sweeter for the wait? i made the midwest wine glass out of dollar store candlesticks and dollar store mason jars (yes, as in, $2 each):