Waiting with Gratitude

My current location is the surgical waiting room of a local hospital where I wait while my man has a day-stay surgery that started four hours late.  We waited together for several hours in a prep room, he more impatient than I because the last food intake he had was nearly 15 hours ago.  I have done this surgical waiting routine more times than I want to admit.  We thought his surgery days were past after an unbelievably busy medical year in 2011, but here I sit again due to the unexpected and unwelcome health issue that popped up last week.  But, it is at times like this that I realize how fortunate we are - he has medical insurance unlike many others, this surgery is relatively minor compared to those I've seen today who are facing more worrisome procedures and I have family and friends who are praying and sending positive energy to us.  As with others, our relationship has its challenges and moments of glory and I sit here grateful for all we have experienced together.  Even in the dark times, when we held on by a thread, I knew we had a strong bond that kept us dreaming the same dreams.

Our relationship has been a series of challenges - some are common, some are unique.  Being from different cultures, we had to be open about sharing and experiencing one another's customs and habits.  Our cultural give-and-take has left us both better people.  I learned to love mate, an Argentine tea, and dulce de leche, a Latin American caramel-type spread and he learned to cook for a vegetarian, something he never dreamed he would do.

I was used to life in the country and he was accustomed to life in the fast-paced, crowded northeast, but we both adjusted to life in the small city where we reside.  We have many of the same cultural interests - plays, concerts, museums, bookstores, lectures - and here we found many events to keep us entertained and informed.  He has introduced me to foreign films from South and Central America, as well as tango and other Latin music, and he enjoys the bluegrass music of the south and has learned much about the history of Florida and developed a love of the artists who capture the lakes, springs, hammocks, beaches and wildlife of our state.

Our first year together included one of his daughters, my adopted daughter and, later, her brother.  Our blended family often had a rough time and by the end of the year, he and I were alone - good in some ways and sad in others.  Now my daughter and her two children are back with us - an adjustment that thrilled me, but was hard on him.  Coming from a large family and having several children of his own, he was relishing our life as a couple living without other family members and obligations, but he has made the changes necessary to allow me the joy of having my daughter and grandchildren with us. 

I am a person with few limits and he is one with many.  I tend to accept everyone and everything at face value and he has taught me to proceed with more caution, to be a bit more discerning.  He tends to hold back and observe, sometimes being more judgmental than I like.  I have taught him to be a little more open and accepting.  

We have cried together over deaths in our families and struggled through a variety of family, financial, legal and medical problems. We have shared old friends and made new ones.  We have watched neighbors move in and move out and houses be bought and sold.  After eight years, we have a history where we live.  

He took me to Manhattan and I took him to Mount Dora.  We both love the intensity and variety of the city, but the cold and the high living expenses limit us to yearly visits to our favorite metropolis.  Mount Dora, on the other had, is easily accessible and affordable and the weather, though very hot in the summer but no hotter than where we live now, is very agreeable the rest of the year.  The coffee shops, restaurants, museums, shops, theater, and parks of Mount Dora make it a culturally diverse town where we can find plenty to entertain, inspire and educate us.
    

There are days we don't like each other very much and days when we cannot imagine ever being apart.  Sometimes we talk a lot, sometimes not so much.  We get annoyed and irritated with one another and we laugh together and share the secrets that only the two of us know.  We read the newspaper together every morning, often read in bed at night and watch our favorite shows, Touch and Super Soul Sunday, together, sharing comments and observations.  On occasion, we don't want to be in the same room at the same time, but we never want to sleep without one another.  I know I am a better person because of him and I hope he feels the same. 

But most of all, I am grateful for the fun he brings into my life.  In the muddy darkness of a sad marriage, I had lost my sense of fun.  Really, I had even lost my memory of fun.  He gave that back to me.  The laughter, the jokes, the playful teasing.  And that is what I remember during these times of waiting.  The fun.  Life is supposed to have some light-hearted moments. In spite of the hard times, the disagreeable times, the head-banging, incomprehensible times, I relish those moments of fun that have filtered through our days together.  Perhaps those moments add up to less time than the difficult hours, but they are the moments that make this life worth living.

Footnote:  It is nearly 11 pm and I am bone tired after a long and very frustrating day.  After delayed surgery, hospital staff confusion, changed hospital rules about visitors, hospital construction that made getting from one place to another difficult, and some issues with residual effects of anesthesia, I am relieved that I was able to bring him home today.  His surgery went well, just everything else surrounding it that was a confused mess. Today was not fun, but having him snoring beside me is.