The Waiting

As I write this, I'm waiting.  Waiting for the another page to load so that I can leave Margaux a comment about her gorgeous Swallotwail.  Waiting for Activity Period to be over so that I can walk down the street to Marvelous Market and get myself a little something for lunch.  So while I wait for the page to load, I'm glad to be able to write a post.  And while I walk down the street, I'll be cursing the cold that keeps me from being able to knit the miles of I-cord I need to complete for garlands before Christmas.  Was I always such a multi-tasker, or did motherhood- and its neverending demands that I keep up with This (dirty diaper), That (laundry), and The Other (oh, yes, the cats), all at once- do this to me?  I can't wait anymore.  I must be always doing.

Or maybe knitting did this to me.  I can't sit down without needles in my hands.  Watch a movie?  Without yarn in my lap?  No way.  I knit while watching my son eat dinner, in between wiping his hands off (he's a bit compulsive) and jumping up for more "dippy" (ketchup/marinara/syrup).  I knit while reading before bed.  I knit during carpool (two repeats of Branching Out a day).  When I have to sit too long at a stoplight, my hands start to twitch.  I'm sure you know the feeling.

Maybe I've been thinking so much about waiting lately because we're all still wrapped in the iron blanket of events of the past month.  There's no rushing this.  Grief, healing, recovery takes time.  We are forced to stop in our tracks.  Even those of us who initially responded by doing, doing, doing now find ourselves a bit bewildered and frozen.

Jess, over at Fig and Plum, posted the other day asking for favorite Etsy sellers.  As I spent a happy hour (or two) surfing through the listed favorites, I noticed that the items I was most drawn to were postcards, notecards, and stationery.  This wasn't a conscious thing, but rather a pattern that emerged as I followed link upon link.  My shopping cart started to fill up with cards from PhotoBird, The Black Apple, and Young&WithIt Industries, all of which arrived yesterday.

And while it may be silly to think that a minor shopping spree has visited itself upon me in order that I might embrace Larger Truths, I do think that my desire to snatch up stationery may just mean it's time to slow down and practice that art that my grandmother and mother still hold dear- letter writing.  It's not as tap-tap-tappy quick as email.  You can't knit while you do it.  You have to wait, wait, wait for your recipient to find it in her mailbox.  But at the end there's the gift of the handwriting- the personal mark- and the time it took.  So here's my first New Year's Resolution: I will write at least three letters a month in the coming year.

Waiting is so hard.  We waited for today's good news about the Kims, and we still wait to hear about James.  Today my students, who are also Tim's (Mr. Frick's best friend is also my co-teacher), planted 600 bulbs on the playground in honor of his wife Melissa.  They laughed and pulled at the oniony skin while they waited their turn, but when they stepped out onto the dark earth to plant them, it was with quiet reverence.  And now we wait until April, while winter does its slow work. 

 

It will be beautiful.  Well worth the wait.

Comments

[margaux]

i love the wait each day for your post. thanks again for the shoutout!!

[jess]

I love the bulb-planting! what a fantastic idea.

Great cards, too. :)

[nikki]

What a touching tribute to your Melissa.

I love The Black Apple. I've been waiting months for my sister to frame my three prints for me. Thanks for the reminder. I'm off to ask for them back right now...

[nova]

I think I was always a multi-tasker, but becoming a mother made me more efficient at the multi-tasking...perhaps you are just noticing your efficiency more?

Nice stationery...I think the goal of letter writing is a good one. It forces you to slow down...which isn't necessarily a bad thing... And it's always nice to receive something handwritten, I think.

[The Purloined Letter]

What a beautiful thing the students did. Lovely post.

[Amanda]

Lovely letters on sweet stationary are so nice, but my awful spelling keeps me from handwriting correspondences. To be honest, I often type out what I will write in cards before filling them out. Oh, well.

Students planting flowers to honor your friend is good. The roses we planted after my mom died always make me feel calm and thoughtful—a reminder of the vibrant beauty in life that she taught me to see, a reminder of the beautiful kindness she brought to those who knew her.

[Carol]

Nothing like a hand written letter! I really like the cards too, very nice. And what a beautiful tribute to your friend, the promise of spring at its best.

[Jen]

600 bulbs on the playground--that's going to be beautiful. It already is.

And here's to your first resolution of 2007. It's a good one.

[maryse]

growing up since i moved so often, i wrote letters a lot. i was an amazing letter writer if i do say so myself. on looseleaf paper with my favorite pen. sometimes during class.

600 bulbs in honor of your friend is a lovely tribute. it'll be beautiful in the spring.

[kmkat]

I can't remember the last time I got a hand-written letter. Or when I wrote one, for that matter. I admire your resolution.

[Kirsten]

I knit while I wait too. From the simple stoplight, to the bigger things in life, we are so lucky to have this craft that helps in the waiting!

The cards are wonderful. I'm sure they will inspire you to meet your goal.

The bulbs are a beautiful tribute to your friend.

[Kim P]

25 years ago, an evergreen was planted in remebrance of my best friend. The tree is now huge and seeing it grow over the years makes me happy. The bulbs will be so beautiful!

[Patty]

What a wonderful world we live in. You know she's smiling down upon you all.

[Lori]

Very nice post! I am waiting also to hear about James Kim and hoping upon hope to hear good news.

[Jennie]

I have long lamented the loss of letter writing as a part of our culture. I'm a computer-a-holic, and I love e-mail and other types of virtual communication, but nothing is as special, personal and warm as a handwritten note. I made a resolution last year to write two notes a month, and I've recently upped it to one a week. I'm so happy to hear others feel the same way!

[JessaLu]

What a very touching tribute

[LaDonna]

I'm sorry to hear your friend James didn't make it. My heart goes out to his family.

[Kelly]

... is the hardest part. (Probably one of my most favorite songs ever.)

Planting bulbs is about patience, and trust, and, if you really stop to think about it, an absurd amount of faith ("this thing is going to be a what?"). I think it's one of the most audacious things that gardeners do, and what a wise choice for remembering Melissa.

[Jenny]

What a lovely thing for the students to do.

[dixie]

Aw, first, thanks for the shout out. You are a great customer!

Planting the bulbs is a very beautiful gesture. I do hope you will share a picture when they bloom.

I was so terribly sad to hear that James Kim did not make it. I had been following the story with such hope.

[paula]

The planting of the bulbs will leave a beautiful and everlasting memory. What a great thing to do,

[sp9]

Hey there pal!
The delivery confirmation I had put on your box said you got it on 12-4, but I haven't heard from you, so I was wondering if I got your address wrong or something??? Let me know whats up. Thanks!
Hope you have a day without too much waiting :)
~SP9