When I was little, my mother had this tiny five-minute hourglass. Every time I'd be a bug up her butt about going someplace or doing something, she was usually already in the middle of some chore, and "
5 more minutes" was a typical request for my patience. I would go find the houglass, sit, and spend the next five minutes watching the sand trickle down at an annoyingly slow pace. Then I'd run back to my mother and bug her again, knowing full well that she probably still had her hands full with her current task.
At 30 years old, I am still a clockwatcher. However, I have learned that even though I can not stand waiting, some things -
the important things - are
worth waiting for.
Right now, as we speak, I am waiting. Waiting sucks. But, I am waiting for something very important to me. Something worth all of my patience.
When the next six months have finally passed, I will know that
he is back home, safe and sound, with "
his girls".
And then I'm throwing my hourglass out the window.
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