Good things come to those who wait. It seems this phrase has several contradictory meanings, it has been used in several different ways in history. This morning, I pulled out a sticker to add to the “Thank You” card for a package I was sending, and I pulled out a sticker with this phrase on it. I kept it for myself. It made me smile, it felt like it was something I needed to hear. Maybe I pulled it out for myself instead of the person who placed their order. So now the sticker is lying underneath my monitor, displayed in a way where I can always see it. Good things come to those who wait. Will I be rewarded for waiting patiently?
It’s really an ironic quote for me personally, I used to be someone who felt as though they were always in a rush. Rushing to work, home from work, how could I possibly fit in everything that needed to be done? The level of stress that I felt wasn’t something I could express. I just kept pushing myself. Testing how far I could go until complete burnout. But that’s not necessarily why this quote is relatable to me today. Yes, I’ve learned to live slower, I’ve taken a less stressful job, I work from home now. I’ve cut out all the toxicity from my life. I don’t over give anymore. So you may be asking yourself, what is it I’m waiting for?
Something came up the past couple weeks with work. We were told we have to travel for a company wide meeting. Hotel and flight would be paid for. This would all be well and good, but it just so happens to be a scheduled trip during the week. In the month of May. And, well, I don’t have anyone here anymore to help me. I had to travel for work back in October, I told my son’s father this would be a twice a year thing. He hasn’t been consistently seeing my son for years, but I figured this could be something he could do for me. Except the night before Christmas Eve, things changed yet again. He called me up randomly, told me he’d be leaving. Moving states away from us in just a few days. This news rattled me to my core even though I hate to admit it. I’ve been wanting to move away since before I had my son, back when I was just a hopeful teenager. My son’s father told me I couldn’t. When we were together it was because of his job, when we broke up it was because then he couldn’t see him. I tried so hard to get him to approve me leaving. I came up with plans to where he’d be able to spend even more time with my son than he did now during a summer visit. I had a friend at the time that had this arrangement with her ex. I fought and fought and fought until I was exhausted. I resigned myself to the understanding that it would be at least 18 years before I would get to move. I settled in, bought a house. I watched all of my family move. One by one. And now most recently, his father left us. You could say it’s my son and I against the world.
So, when I received the email notification that I would have to schedule my flights and book my hotel I panicked. What do I do? My son is 16, but not quite old enough for me to travel for 2 days and leave him on his own. Maybe if he drove. Maybe if he didn’t need to make it to school. So I told my boss I couldn’t go, I guess after all it really wasn’t that big of a deal. But I’m angry. I think I’m working through that. When I decided to keep my son at 18 I didn’t realize it would be just me alone raising him. Everyone else has been able to leave, move miles and states away. We don’t even get regular check ins. It has been years since I’ve even seen any of my immediate families faces.
The thing is, even though I was angry, there was a small part of me that said, “One day you’ll be free to do whatever you want to do.” I dont know what that feels like. Im almost 36 and I’ve never not had the responsibility of also raising a kid while surviving adulthood. All of the responsibility had been left on my shoulders. His dad out partying. But maybe that’s ok, maybe my time is coming. Maybe I’ll look back on these days fondly when I’m out traveling the world. Maybe the best things are coming to me because I patiently waited here by myself.
The Girl Without A Face 