waiting


In some ways, I am a very patient person. I can find the longest line at the grocery store and happily browse magazines behind the slowest customer. I can play Angry Birds while my kid takes forever to go to sleep.

But in other ways, I am not at all patient.

Today, for example: my country is having a presidential election. Yesterday, I asked my son if he wanted to come vote with me, and at first he said no, he'd rather I went without him. But then as he was going to sleep last night (and yes, I was playing Angry Birds), he suddenly decided that he did want to go with me, to vote for Barack Obama. Which made me happy as a clam. (Not just that he wants to vote the way I am voting. But that he wants to come with me to vote.)

I agreed that I would wait. He could come home, do his homework and then we'll go vote, together. (And then we have to go grocery shopping - unless I do that today while he's at school, but since he likes to go, I think I'll wait.)

My husband voted this morning because he's working late tonight so he can conserve gas by not going in other days this week. There are still lines in New Jersey.

And today I am impatient.

Not for my child to get home, not for my particular vote. I will vote. Timing doesn't matter (as long as you are in line by the time your polling place closes).

No, I'm impatient waiting for the wait to be over. (Although if 2000 taught us anything, it's that sometimes we won't know until later. Oh please, don't let that happen again. And please, please, please, don't let there be a false reporting of the predicted winner.)

I'd just like the speculation and the ads and the politicizing to be over, if not the complaining and the bad mouthing.

I'd like to see us return to more civil cooperation. To friendliness. To kindness. I am impatient for that day. For the day when we aren't divided. When all of humanity remembers we are One People. Just human beings, doing the best we can.

Yes, I can't wait for that day. May it come speedily and in my day!