“You wait here.” I said letting go of one small hand while extending the other to a smile that called my name and invited me in.
I am used to it. It has become a part of my physical makeup like my eye color or the way my hair falls to one side without the use of a comb to guide it.
College graduation, Mr. Right and a proposal, A Wedding, The pain of Infertility, the 35 weeks until I could hold my sons, all a lesson in delayed gratification and hope for something bigger and better to arrive.
It seems like I have spent most of my life waiting. The simple process of hanging on and holding out has become a way of life that wakes with me each morning and tucks me in at night. I call myself impatient, fancy myself spontaneous but the truth, the thing I hate admitting, is that I am good at waiting.
I am proficient at procrastinating and I am skilled at holding myself back from risk lest it hurt or humiliate me.
Auditioning for Listen To Your Mother was a place where I didn’t wait; I just followed my heart and my voice to New York City. Sure, I felt all the feelings you would reading my own words in front of three women that I was meeting for the first time, but in the middle of my 2 and half minutes, I took a moment , took a breath and just listened to myself talk about my sons.
I focused on the single thought that while I was here, my stomach up near my heart, my heart up near my throat, the two boys I had waited for were right outside the closed door.
Waiting for me.
I pictured their faces and their tap dance routine on the wooden floor of the studio as I read. I let their smiles float up to the surface of my mind and knew that they had no idea what I was doing in that space. The simple explanation of “mommy is reading her writing” completely lost on the massive imagination inside a 4 yr old mind. I reminded myself that they were more excited about the train ride from Secaucus and the thought of eating Sabrett’s hot dogs when I emerged from this room.
But still, they waited, for me.
When I was done, they rushed to my arms yelling “Mommy! Can we get a pretzel now?” without knowing that I had left a heap of my love for them in that room, in the hands of those three women with the three smiles.
In the days that would follow, in those strange moments where I was swinging between hope and hopeless, I practically shimmered with anticipation, fear and expectation.
Once again I was waiting.
“I’ve been here before.” I told myself, “I am good at this and if the answer is no, the risk was taken and that is more than enough.”
So that when the call came and stole my breath, when I allowed the news to sink in, I knew that it had been worth it to linger.
The words so clear as I pressed kisses on the heads of my sons, “You were worth the wait. “ and “Thank you for pausing your life for a few minutes so I could read my words. I can’t wait to tell the world all about you.”
Pouring my HEART with my friend Shell. xo
I will be performing with the AMAZING, TALENTED, INCREDIBLE NYC Cast of Listen to Your Mother this Sunday, May 6th at 2pm inside the JCC of Manhattan. Our show is SOLD OUT (YAY!) but I promise to read with each of you inside my heart and to post the video of me reading my piece, “Sitting in Your Light” as soon as it’s available.
*thank you for supporting me, for being excited for me and for allowing me to POUR MY HEART today*