wAItinG WAITING waiting wAiTiNg

 Remember the PSA contribution of an iconic egg being cracked open and fried? Well, that is kind of how one feels now within my circle of friends and family. Only in this instance we are talking about the stress related fractures of mind as we wait, one and all, for emails, texts and calls. How is Yitzy today? How is he now, two hours after treatment? What about now, a day later? What about what will be in another week, month, year? How do we get through this eternal blasted waiting?  

How do we survive the stress and most important, how do we help Yitzy wait. Wait for another treatment. Wait for another week, month, day after day, to go by as he awaits a hoped for resumption of the life any 12-year-old boy wants. The thoughts of another year before high school. The thoughts of camps and baseball league, ice hockey, more birding and Nature walks, more responsibilities and more privileges. 

Waiting and waiting and waiting and along with him all the other blessed friends and family who have reached out, added their own prayers and hopes, their good will and love. The massive power of that wave of energy and concern must have an effect, must influence recovery, for how could it not? Moreover, that wave will be constantly, consistently refreshed, enlarged, renewed until that wonderful day of these words spoken -go forth and live your life, the life of any 12 year old. 

Waiting. Waiting.  Waiting.

  During that time, we will also be waitng another miracle - the return of amity, comity, brotherhood, true patriotism, faith in our fellow inhabitants of this troubled whirling orb we live on. Waiting to assure that all 12-year-old kids, those younger, those older, all children of all nations, ethnicity, skin color, religion, whatever divides us now, that all that matters not at all. Only the recognition that we all share the same hopes and dreams for all our kids. Actually, there is no time to waste, no more waiting but rather an active search for the right path to follow, to lead the way, to light up that wonderful, hopeful, highway for all these kids.

I want Yitzy to walk out of the hospital or doctor visit one day, soon, and hear those beautiful lifegiving sun drenched words of cure, hope, and "get out of here and live life!"

And so, we wait. Wait for that call. Wait for that contact. Wait for those words. Wait for that wave to conquer all in its path, mandate a cure, for Yitzy and for all kids afflicted with what they should never have to know. Waiting for the idiots in Washington, the idiots in every political and religious sector of this country, indeed, all countries, to wake up and prioritize correctly, know the best world for our kids is to make sure that we address their needs, their futures rife with potential, and simply allow them the chance grow up! 

No more time for waiting.

And yet we will continue to wait as long as we must for Yitzy.

We will wait.

We will wait as long as it takes.

waitingwaitingwaitingwaiting

I grow impatient. I grow angrier that we waste so much energy on nonsense, on negativity, when there are so many more fundamental issues calling for attention.

Waiting. Waiting - for grownups to be grown up.

Waiting for kids to be kids.

Waiting for goodness and love to overrun, swamp the hate, the enmity, the perversion of religion.

Waiting for Yitzy to be able to run free, play baseball again, be the beloved annoying little brother, the caring uncle, the loving son, the adored grandson.

And so we wait.