Waiting

I am now in waiting mode for graduate school. I have turned in all my materials to Vanderbilt and MTSU and now must wait for them to make a decision. The deadline for Vanderbilt was January 15th, and the deadline for MTSU is March 2nd, so I think I have a long wait on my hands.

I am a partially patient waiter. I usually don't mind the wait picking up Hardy from preschool (that is my prime singing time to Ellie, and I am thankful no one can hear me warble to my girl), and the wait in line at the grocery store is no big deal. However, the wait in line at WalMart can drive me insane, as it seems that every kid in the place decides to start crying at that time. I do try to remind myself what it must be like to be little and have no control over your time and so remain patient with the little ones. I can even wait patiently through commercials on tv, as I usually have one (or 2 or 7) books beside me I can read while I wait. But this waiting to hear if I am going to grad school is hard.

There was no wait about college. I found out about the W in late November, and went down to interview for a scholarship later that week. I found out I was accepted and awarded a scholarship by Christmas that year. I remember the moment vividly. I was working my job as cashier at Champs Sporting Goods, a gig that was supposed to last 6weeks when I was 15 and ended up being a job that lasted 2 1/2 years (apparently I have a stellar work ethic). It was the Christmas break and I was working long hours. It was evening, and an unexpectedly slow time, so I was on the floor (I was usually the cashier) straightening and restocking shelves. I look up and see my dad walk in. I would have thought something was horribly awry if it wasn't for the huge grin on his face. He handed me the letter from the W, telling me the good news. To this day I remember how sweet it was that he went out in the cold, unwilling to postpone me knowing the good news about college. Perhaps he was also celebrating that he wouldn't have to pay for college.

Life is full of waiting. Dr. Seuss, wise guru to us all, describes it in The Places You'll Go (one of Hardy's favorite book and one we read so often we finally had to buy our own copy). As he says, ". . .and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,/ headed, I fear, toward a most useless place./ The Waiting Place. . ./"

Waiting can be a useless place, when it is the excuse for remaining stagnant, when it comes from a place of fear of change. Waiting can also be good, a time of learning, a time of a forced slow down, a time of re-examining. This is what I am using this waiting time for. I am trying to savor the time with my kids, to enjoy the times when Hardy and I watch Garfield together, when Ellie and I dance around the living room when no one is watching. This hopefully is the time I will never get back, and each moment seems more precious and fraught with significance than before. I'm just glad that I am not "waiting for the wind to fly a kite/or waiting around for Friday night/or waiting, perhaps for their Uncle Jake/or a pot to boil, or a Better Break. . ./or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. . ." We all have seasons of waiting, and I am thankful that this one will be have a finite end in the spring.