WAITING

I have the opportunity to sit in waiting rooms with friends or family from time to time.  Waiting for surgery, doctor appointments, lab work, etc.  Actually, waiting rooms are very interesting places to sit and people watch if you aren't bound up with tension awaiting worrisome test results.

One time I was sitting in a waiting room while a friend was having surgery.  I usually take a book but this particular visit I decided to just observe, be present.

One fellow seemed to have decided to just chew his wait out. He'd retrieved one of those red stir sticks from a 'cup of coffee' center and was walloring it all around his mouth, working his jaws out big time.  His cowboy boots still had some fresh Spring mud mixture on them.  He must have been out in the pasture before bringing his Mom for surgery.  I surmised the elderly gentleman cowboy next to him was his Dad. He sat perfectly still with his weathered hands in his lap. It wasn't hard to see that he was very deep in thought.

A couple of ladies wearing matching sweat suits: one red, one blue, were trying to knit and cross-stitch and embroidery during their lengthy stay. They only glanced up if they were disturbed by more waiting folk crowding into the tight space of metal/vinyl orange chairs or if the voice on the inner com spoke.  I think the one in red was knitting a 12 foot long purple (mixed with pink) scarf.  It went on and on.  The dear one in blue had put her own project in the quilted bag at her feet and helped her friend by holding the fuzzy yarn in her two outstretched hands.  They chatted in hushed tones about people needing prayer in their church.

A family looking unit huddled in a couch area.  Grandpa bounced a six month old on his knee.  Brother put on his earphones and held his Gameboy close.  He made faces twisting his mouth and chewing on his tongue as he was battling no telling what!  Grandma folded her pale chubby, short arms across her ample breasts and glared and frowned at the television overhead. There was one of those wild tell-all talk shows on and they had forgot to censor some of it!

Waiting is tough business.  We are an instant society, automatic, 'hurry-up and do it', nation.  Frozen dinner on TV trays with instant coffee and microwave popcorn are not that uncommon.  We don't want to wait in line at the grocery store or Wal-Mart, the post office, the bank or McDonald's.  We honk our horns if the person in front of us at a changed light is slow to move.  So, naturally we are impatient with hospital sitting as well.

We wait to get an appointment with our doctor, wait to see the doctor when we get there, wait to get the blood tests, or X-rays, to get our prescription filled and then to get our test results, perhaps a surgery date, then another doctor's appointment or paper work filled out before the referred surgeon will see us.  It is just the way it is.  None of the doctors or their employees want us to wait any more than we do.

Years ago one of my chemotherapy patients told me that he'd learned so much from waiting rooms.

"Ya know, Becki, waiting's good for us.  Rushing around is not.  You see, I have been in a hurry for many years, thinking my time was more important than anyone else's.   I was highly insulted if anyone ever made me wait.  Didn't they know how important I was?  Did they realize how high up the ladder I'd climbed in my company? Weren't they aware that I now had my own company?

But, it all ticks by the same.  If you are in charge of folding sheets in a nursing home or owning a nursing home, when it's all said and done, we are the same.  I'm not so all fired up and important anymore.  Look around you.  You think your time is more precious than the homeless man's time in that corner is?

I like that verse in the Bible where it says, "Teach us to number our days." There's wisdom in that.  Too many hurrying for tomorrow when tomorrow may never be ours.  Better enjoy the moments, better take some deep breaths and slow down a mite.  Who are we going to show love to this day?  Who are we going to thank today?

Neighbors don't sit out on the porch like they used to when I was a kid.  Guess these oncology waiting rooms have given me a new perspective.  Waiting has her purpose.  We shouldn't despise her."

THE PICKET FENCE

It was a lovely Christmas celebration on Christmas Eve with family.  We ate and we laughed and enjoyed just being together. Christmas Day we were invited to a dear friend's home for some of his sumptuous cooking with a delicious homemade veggie pot pie and potato casserole that had water chestnuts on top covered in a creamy sauce, just to mention a few of the dishes!

We had the pleasure of meeting one of the guests for the first time.  Oh my! She is beautiful, charming, and a wonderful story teller! She captured my attention right off the bat! After we had settled down at the feast of a meal in the dining room which was decorated with such style and detail, she told us a little about herself.

She said that all of the homes that she has owned in her adult life had picket fences. If she bought one and it didn't have one, she had one built. "Let me explain." She continued.

"As a child my sister and I would ride in the back seat of the family car for over eight hours every Christmas, and other visits as well, to go see our Grandmother. Our Father would get us up early and take us to get donuts, then get us situated in the car and head to Texas.

My Grandmother's farm had a long winding gravel road entry bordered by huge mature trees on either side. As Grandmother anticipated our arrival, she would listen for the noise of our car making its way to the house, hearing the popping and crunching of the gravel!

She would welcome us with big love, hugs and kisses. It was such a sweet time visiting her. Her home had a picket fence that had a small vegetable garden in it and a rose arbor. We would spend time in the summer helping her pick the veggies and often sit under one of the garden's large mimosa trees while we snapped beans.  There are so many loving memories that were created right there in that space, within the confines of the picket fence.

It took me years to figure out why each of the homes in my adult years with my picket fences didn't seem to measure up, didn't make me as happy as it did as a child.  But with time I began to realize that it really wasn't the picket fence that filled me with joy.  It was the unconditional love of my Grandmother and all the fun and happy memories that were stored in my young heart."

I sat there like I was hypnotized as she filled my head with images and wanting to have had the honor of knowing her Grandmother!!

These are the gifts that matter most all of our lives.  It's not about how much money we can spend on our children, how big and shiny our toys are as adults, but instead it's the time well spent together: playing games that make us laugh till our sides ache, pulling out the box of old photos stored under aunt Lucille's bed, having a family reunion and recording the elders' stories of long ago, to truly 'hear' one another, 'see' one another.

 It is my prayer for each of you as the New Year begins that you will make very special memories with your loved ones and dear friends that they will carry with them all their days and into eternity.  For truly, as I've said before, what we take with us when we 'transition 'is the Love that is woven into the DNA of our souls, the love we gave to another and the love we received.

Blessings! Happy New Year!
Becki