For as long as he can remember he had been waiting. When he
was little he had waited for the ordinary things. For his
mother to finish packing up for the park. For the cookies to
bake. For recess to begin. For his younger brother to wake up
from his nap. For his Abba to come home.
He didn't know then that he was waiting. All he knew was that
time seemed to crawl by when he was waiting. He would stare
with fierce determination at the ticking hands on the
ornately carved grandfather clock in the living room, willing
them to move faster. It seemed to take forever for the little
bird to pop out at the end of an hour.
As he grew, he began to wait for different things. He waited
for math class to end. He waited for his birthday to come.
When it was winter he longed for summer. And when it was
summer he thought endlessly about the frosted windows and
fiery leaves of an autumn day. He waited anxiously for his
bar mitzvah, and then, he waited for yeshiva to begin. He
waited to become engaged and then he waited for the day of
his chuppah.
When he was finally married, he waited impatiently to have
children and when his son was born, he waited for a daughter.
When he had many children, he waited for them to get married
and then he waited for grandchildren. Once he had
grandchildren, he waited for them to get married and then he
waited for great-grandchildren.
And then one morning, at the breakfast table, as he looked at
his wife over their steaming cups of coffee, he realized he
had stopped waiting. This realization fell over him like a
dark, chilling shadow. Instead of relief, he felt panic begin
to rise within him. He began to tap his foot nervously on the
floor. What would he do with nothing to wait for?
The calendar on the wall seemed to stare back at him with its
empty, formless days. He stood up to rinse his cup and looked
out the kitchen window. On the sidewalk, a little boy was
riding his bicycle back and forth and laughing as his puppy
followed him in circles. He couldn't remember ever being that
carefree. All his life he had waited, waited, waited.
What had he been waiting for? He had been waiting for life to
begin. Maybe today it would.
