Patience is something that I fight against. We’re not friends or companions, my stubborn temperament always preferring to use and make use of patience’ oppressed cousin, endurance. Endurance will get you through almost anything patience will, you see. It’s not as graceful, or as kind, but goddammit, you get to where you need to be, teeth gritting and eyes bulging.
I think though, endurance ends up costing you more in the long run. It makes rougher grooves on the surface of your soul, leaves a greater strain on your sensitive heart: in short, it hurts more.
So I’m going to (finally) embrace patience. I’m going to hold it like I do my babies, close to me and cuddle it. I’m going to show it love and tenderness, and I think, with time, it will show me some too. And make me feel more graceful too.
I read a second story to ZZ today when I my eyes were closing after the first. I made sure that I gave her a big smile, and held her close too, and she beamed for me in reward.
I’m giving Q her space. My ribs don’t hurt as much tonight, though I still am fearing what 3am will bring. If I have another panic attack, which is quite possible, I’ll embrace that too, and let it pass. I know that it will.
Taking my computer in twice, because after they said it was fixed and I checked my power cord for the second time-having done so once right on the spot-was another opportunity for patience, in the form of a totally unnecessary auto ride back there and again. I used it to have a good conversation with I, my most amazing 14 year old son.
I could have been more patient with the technicians. It would have been nicer if they’d stopped chatting on gmail and allowed me to get out of there in time to go grocery shopping.
Endurance is still a good skill. Meh.