Letting go of waiting

I think I was born to wait on others. Something that has my adult self wondering if I am an inflexible stick-in-the-mud of some sort. See the article My Kryptonite and Expect the Unexpected. I don’t want to be strict about it, and I want to have a very flexible attitude and outlook. But sometimes I really feel tested.

When I was younger, around grade school age or earlier, I waited endless nights for my dad to come home from work. I recall watching headlights go by hour after hour wishing so hard that the next set of lights would turn the corner and into our driveway. Wishing did not make it so. I remember feeling so confused and crushed by this, and as a child, ‘high functioning alcoholic’ was not in my vocabulary.

Continue reading