Pan o Palo


Sitting In The Waiting Room
October 5, 2009, 1:21 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

It’s been an odd conflation of hopes and angst for me these past several weeks.

I’m waiting on a lot of things to happen right now; and I’m having a very difficult time trying to verbalize it all.  Mostly keeping it in spurts, under 140 characters, and vague enough to elude to feeling overwhelmed.  All of these incredible, life-changing moments; seemingly colliding and beating the crap out of me.

All the while, I sit here in the same chair, day after day, while everybody else carries on in life.  I try to keep pace with the world via aggregators, tweets, and all the other usual suspects.  Everything’s going on.  Everyone’s out doing stuff, making things happen.  Humanity is doooooomed; leaders are playing multi-dimensional games of chess; children are born; acquaintances losing homes and livelihoods.  It’s all amplified right now.  I feel buried in the perpetual motion. I can scarcely muster up the energy to yell at the kids to get offa my lawn.

Obviously, things are going to be different…soon.  In Rumsfeldian terms, it’s the “known-unknown”.

I’m just trying to do the small day-to-day things to keep some semblance of sanity in my immediate surroundings.  Hell, I’ve got all of this time right now; and I’m spending the great majority of my time with this laptop on my lap and my ass in this seat.  My thoughts are scattered all over the place (as if it wasn’t already obvious).  The boredom and ennui drive me to the edge of tears.  The anxiety of a life in upheaval and transition keeps me up at night.  The fits of physical discomfort leaves me less inclined to be more ambulatory.

All these things aren’t going away once our child is born or if/when I go back to work.  I know that, and am simply trying to make them more bearable.  It’s funny how a $500 medical bill provides the yang to what’s ailing you’s yin.

Last week, I decided to write my future daughter a letter I hope she’d read at some point in her life:

Welcome to the world, beautiful daughter! I’m writing this a few weeks before you are born; and I’m not sure if you’ll ever get a chance to read this. But I feel that it’s important to record my thoughts on what you and your Mother mean to me.

It seemed like your Mom was pregnant with you forever! We found out about your arrival pretty early, and we’re very excited. It never seemed real, in spite of your Mom’s growing belly. I had a lot of time to think about how our lives were going to change. I wasn’t working and things got pretty stressful at times. All the time, though, I kept reminding myself “You’re doing it for her.”. And her is you.

I honestly don’t know what to expect after you arrive. Everyone has told me to ‘expect the unexpected’, and I believe that to be true. But, if I fail at anything, it’s not because I stopped loving you. That’s the one thing I can promise you will never, ever change. We will always try and house and feed you and make you feel like you can always talk to us about anything. We won’t have all the answers, but we will definitely try and guide you in the best direction.

And, believe it or not, we were both teenagers and young adults at one time. We know what it’s like to not want to hang out with your parents; or feel embarrassed by something a parent says. We can’t promise we won’t feel hurt or slighted when you don’t want to confide in us or be with us, but what we’ll get over it.

I just can’t emphasize enough how important, even before you are born, you mean to me. I am excited to see you being born. Take your first steps. Say your first words. Send you off to your first day of school. Watch you grow up and become a strong, intelligent, caring, empathetic, free-thinking beautiful woman.

Words can’t accurately describe what I’ve been feeling through this whole ‘journey’. The only thing I’ll ever ask of you, in return, is that you know that I’m sincere in how much I love you.

Love,

Dad

I’ll just leave it at that.