“We can
never know about the days to come
But we
think about them anyway”
(Anticipation, Carly
Simon)
I am lousy at waiting. Always have been. Ask anyone who knows me well and they will
tell you that I am lousy when it comes to waiting. Anticipation kills me.
The daughter is in millionth week of
pregnancy and has a due date of June 27th to bring into the world
our newest granddaughter—Finley Kate.
Yeppers, the family is expanding, though being heavily dominated at this
time with females. Though June 27th
is the predicted date for the arrival, reality is starting to push for a much
earlier arrival . . . like in the next week.
The daughter is terribly uncomfortable . . . and, who wouldn’t be
carrying around a bowling ball that seems to protrude to infinity and
beyond. It makes me uncomfortable to
watch her waddle around. She is tired of
pregnancy . . . her husband is tired of pregnancy—especially those looks that
tell him that it is his fault! Even the
future sister is tired of the pregnancy . . . she wants her mother’s lap
back. Thus it is that the whole family
is experiencing great anticipation of the blessed event . . .
. . . and, it is killing me!
When the wife was pregnant with our
first child the doctor gave us a due date for when our son would be born. I appreciated that. It gave me time to plan out my life . . .
time to get ready. In my mind I knew
exactly when and where the birth would take place . . . the damn doctor
lied. The kid didn’t show up for nearly
two week after the due date. In fact, they had to induce the wife to get
the stubborn child to make his appearance into the world. It nearly killed me having to wait . . .
having to anticipate. Every little moan
or groan from the wife had me throwing the suitcase in the car and rushing her
out . . . usually to no avail. The
anticipation in that first pregnancy nearly killed me.
With the next three kids I told the
doctor to not even mention a date . . . not even a good guesstimate . . . I
didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to be
set up for frustration when the due date came and went on by. Kids come when they want to and no due date
is going to keep them from coming whenever that might be. The wife will tell you that I threatened
bodily harm to the poor doctor if she even whispered a date . . . I didn’t want
to know. The anticipation would kill me,
so I opted for ignorance . . . as they say, ignorance is bliss and I was going
to be the most blissful person during the pregnancies of my last three
children.
And, I survived . . . I am here. I am here and now waiting, again, for another
birth. I am filled with anticipation . .
. and, it is killing me. I think the daughter
is getting tired of her father asking her every day about how she is doing . .
. how she is feeling . . . is the darn kid here yet! The daughter and son-in-law are pretty
down-to-earth when it comes to this whole pregnancy . . . after one they seem
to think that they are pretty much pros at it . . . but, I am speaking from
experience and four kids . . . I know that the anticipation is killing
them. I know that they are ready for
this kid to make an appearance so that everyone else can get back to some sort
of normalcy. I know because I am
speaking from experience.
Anticipation . . . sucks!
As Carly Simon sings, “We can never know about the days to come.” And, we don’t. We don’t know what the next moment holds
until it actually happens. Life just
seems to roll at its own pace . . . children make their appearances into the
world when they are good and ready . . . and, everyone waits. Everyone anticipates . . . but, no one knows.
Which is why Ms. Simon also sings, “But we think about them anyway.” Because we do, we create this anticipation in
our lives. It is a terrible Catch-22 for all of us.
The song, Anticipation, is about a relationship that the singer has with
someone that she loves. Apparently it is
a pretty good relationship because the singer is thinking about what the future
holds for the relationship . . . she anticipates what it could be; but she
really doesn’t know. She does not
whether the guy will stick around . . . whether she will stick around; but she
thinks about what is to come. The
anticipation is messing up her life. It
does it to all of us.
I vouch for that. The wife will vouch for that. I was a grumpy person whenever we got close
to the due date. I wasn’t grumpy with
the wife . . . I was grumpy that my expectations about what I was anticipating
were not panning out as I thought they would.
Grumpy that I could not control the whole blessed event. Grumpy that I was pretty much helpless. As I said, I do not handle anticipation well.
So far, I am doing pretty well. I am rooting for the newest granddaughter to
make her appearance earlier than predicted.
I have things to do . . . people to see . . . places to go . . . and,
this waiting to see when everything is going to take place is killing me. It is killing everybody, especially the daughter
who is tired of being pregnant. It
brings back memories of the wife and I waiting for our children to make their
appearance on the scene. It really does.
The funny thing, or should I say the
peculiar thing, is that as the wife and I reflect back on those days . . . they
were the good ol’ days. They really
were. We tell our now adult children
stories about their births into the world . . . funny stories . . . miraculous
stories . . . and, we do so with tears in our eyes and lots of laughter. It is usually a bittersweet moment that we
can never experience again, but one that we are now sharing with them . . .
especially our daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter. Though we may not realize it in the moment,
these, too, are the good ol’ days.
Anticipation has a way of blinding us
to the present moment . . . has a way of stealing the moment. The truth is that more than the actual
experience of what we are anticipating is the moment that stands as the prelude
. . . the waiting in the present time.
It is there that the gift is found . . . that the gift is experienced,
embraced, and made into the story that we cherish. In my maturing years I have discovered this
secret; yet, the anticipation still kills me!
I'm no
prophet, I don't know natures way
So I'll
try to see into your eyes right now
And
stay right here, 'cause these are the good old days.
And, so, we wait . . .
anticipation. Yeah, these are the good
ol’ days!
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