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After my son was born, I was asked if I wanted more children. “Sure,” I responded. “Good,” I was told, “because having one is kind of selfish.”
The person proceeded to tell me how sad it would be for a child to grow up not knowing what it would be like to have a sibling. How unfortunate it would be for that child to feel the sole pressure of his parent’s expectations. How cruel it would be for that child to carry the burden of caring for aging parents alone. After listening to all of that, I was glad I answered yes.
Unfortunately, that conversation happened before…
Waiting is a learned skill in today’s society where instant gratification rules. When I’m alone, I’m a Jedi Master of waiting. I have trained my brain and breathing to maintain inner peace despite the trials of people who grocery shop at gas stations with coupons or the tribulations of dealing with AT&T’s offshored technical support services.
I found a little of my nerve in a grocery store parking lot recently. It surfaced after I saw a big, black dog locked inside a car on an 80-some degree day. Now, I say I found “a little” nerve because in hindsight I should have taken more drastic action to rescue the animal. I should have asked the store to page “the ignorant lady who locked her dog in the hot car with license plate XXXX”. Or, I should have called the police. But as it was, I merely pulled out my notepad and stuck a note of reprehension under her car’s back windshield.