I am a professional waiter.

I have waited sitting down, I have waited standing still, I have waited by the silent phone.

I have waited for my children to be born so I can to see their sweet squashed faces and know for certain I am forever changed.

I have waited for grumpy teenagers outside parties on dull driveways in parked minivans.

I have waited for the death of my father to release him from the captivity of his crippled earthly body.

I have waited in crushed airport lounges along with other travelers. All with our minds in far away places.

I have waited for results of tests that would change my life.

I have waited at crossroads looking for a map or a signpost and realizing there is none.

I have waited for documents that would give me and my family freedom.

I have waited for peoples hearts to thaw and melt and to drip to me their forgiveness.

I have waited for dreams to fly that had been tethered to the land by disappointment.

I have waited alone and together.

I have waited in the small spaces of my heart, and I have waited with all my heart. Every time it makes me think waiting is a skill that is both a discipline and an emotion, so closely knitted together they are one.