I give myself credit for mellowing somewhat as I have gotten older. I try to understand that many others don’t see eye to eye with my often freakish need for doing things within a time frame that seems logical, and I admit that often the logic only is apparent to myself and no one else.
There is no way to temper that aged mellowness when it comes to waiting for your first grandchild to make her appearance. I know that my pregnant daughter will read this and I also know that while my impatience is great, hers far surpasses anything I am feeling or wanting at this point. Hang in there sweetie-we must face facts-WE HAVE NO CONTROL.
Thus, the writing prompt for today is this:
Just how do you handle moments, or great spans of time,when that virtue of patience has abandoned you?
I honestly do think the concept of patience is born out of a need for control. Patience truly teaches one that while we may like to believe we have control over aspects of our daily lives, that entire concept might be a joke. All the sociological theorems tell me that we are the product of our society and our society is made up of individuals who interact and influence everyone else who claims membership in human society. The sociological concept of “the self” and how that self functions is based upon every single thing that happens around an individual every day.
This concept then should indicate that when I feel impatience because others are not functioning in a timely manner, at least in my opinion of a timely manner, the feelings of frustration or desire to bring about change should be wiped from my emotional register because I am simply one player in the game of interactive society. Even if I could bend the social interactions of the majority, the fact is that there will always be someone, somewhere who through their actions, rather intentional or not, who will cause a glitch in my ideal.
Right now, that someone is my precious, yet to be born granddaughter. In the minute, micro social world that is our immediate family unit, this one little person, along with some pretty important maternal hormones, are exerting their own form of control over the logical process that screams out “It’s time to be born!”
In this moment, my choice to handle this growing impatience is to send this little letter to sweet baby girl Randazzo.
Your mommy and daddy have so carefully grown you and nurtured you for 39 weeks. We know how safe and warm and secure you feel inside your mommy’s belly, but the world is waiting to meet you. Your mommy and daddy are tired, mommy most of all. We long to hold you and cherish you and see just who you are and start on the journey with you to see what you will become. We are impatient and we admit to that. It is so hard for us to wait, even one more day. Mommy feels your tiny hands and feet, stretching and pushing and seeking space. We are all here, waiting to love you even more than we can possibly imagine, even more than we already do.
It’s important that you always listen to both your Grandma’s, and this one is saying, “It’s time to come out baby! We’re all waiting anxiously to meet you. Hurry, we are so impatient. Come out baby…”