Waiting

Last night at the synagogue the rabbi sympathized that the waiting must be tough, that I must just want "it" out of me. And I realized I would have thought the same thing a few months ago. It's interesting what a bit of perspective will do. I'm grateful for the wait, as long as it won't kill me. Right now, with the exception of the odd physical symptoms of anxiety (some of which are dissipating a bit now that I've got a date), I feel the same as ever. Yesterday I taught all day, attended a 5th grade teachers' meeting, stopped at two stores and a bank on the way to the sitter, picked up Jonah, took Jason to Hebrew, participated in a synagogue membership committee meeting, brought Jason home, and then took the big kids to the mall, where we ran around until 10:15. Moving, moving, normal life is all about mobility. Have you ever stopped and looked at someone who doesn't have freedom of movement? The person with the cane or walker, who's taking 10 minutes to walk 30 feet? Everyday, my busy life takes me right around these people without a second thought. However, when I sit back and think about what I need, mobility is right at the top of the list. My mother frequently reminds me that I need to apply for a handicapped plaquard for my car. Yeah, I'll take this last month of what's left of normal.