by Chris de Serres
Sometimes I find myself waiting for others. In holding patterns I can’t get out of. Life is often like that when you have a family. Waiting. I wonder how much of my life has been spent waiting. I remember when I was a little boy, following my mother around at the department store. Holding her purse. Waiting. She would take me to appointments. Doctors appointments. Hair appointments. I would sit in the waiting room. Waiting.
Army brats spend alot of time waiting. That’s why we are brats. We are moving all the time. Leaving school. Going to a new school. Then leaving again. During recess I walked around, looking to make friends. Yet, I held back because I knew we would be leaving here eventually. So I waited in the classroom. Eating candy. At our new duty station, we waited for housing, for groceries at the commissary.
When I turned 18 and left for the Army it was no different. I was constantly in a line of some sort. Waiting to be vaccinated. To be ‘in-processed.’ Waiting to be issued my weapon, then waiting for ammo. We would get into formation, which is a form of waiting. In Airborne School, we waited to get on the plane, then waited to jump out. We landed then waited for everyone else to land.
Now I am an adult and I still find myself waiting. I find myself in situations slightly out of my control. Irritated. Waiting for something to finish. To happen.
When something does happen it can be glorious. I am no longer irritated because I don’t have to wait. I am free to go on. Yet, familiar patterns are hard to break. Even this morning. I woke up early because I wanted to create something. To give myself a productive day. Yet, I wonder when my wife and child will wake up. Then I wait.
I was reading an article on the Beach Boys. The journalist described Al Jardine as always looking like he was at a bus stop waiting for the bus. I wonder if he grew up waiting like me.
I always hated waiting.