Parenthood has taught me – or offered many opportunities to learn – patience. During my three pregnancies, I learned that timing was not up to me. Each child arrived when they were good and ready … and not necessarily on the designated due date. When they were infants, I learned that their needs came first and that the notion of feeding and diapering schedules was nothing but a myth put out by Dr. Spock.
Each of them learned different skills at different time – one was an early walker at 9 months, another didn’t walk until 13 months. One learned to ride a two-wheel bike at age three, another was closer to 8 years old. It didn’t really matter because each learned to do what they needed to when they were ready. As they learned, so did I.
I am reminded of these lessons in patience as we await next steps for our son’s treatment and recovery. He officially wrapped up his treatment program last week, but he’s still there because there’s not yet an opening at any of the half-way house programs. He’s ready to move on.
There’s very little I can do to move things along any quicker than they are. It’s frustrating that the timeline isn’t what we’d like it to be, what we expected. It’s a lesson in patience that the right place will come along at the right time. It’s a lesson in patience to not know which place that will be. It’s a lesson in patience to not jump in and try to see if there is anything I can do – it’s up to him and his counselor to work through the system, and I must let them.
This is an opportunity to practice patience, again.