Sunday, March 7, 2010

Que Sera Sera (35/90)

I'm sitting at the Indianapolis airport heading to Tampa by way of Atlanta. I'm sipping a coffee while I wait and am watching, as people are moving all around me. I'm listening discreetly, but unashamedly to conversations that I am not a part of.

The airport has always been one of my favorite places to be. There are so many stories here, so much to see. And there are stories that we miss when we aren't watching. Stories that are not offered up but just slip out

The gentleman sitting beside me is anxious. He is on his way to see his father in Florida who is, as I type this, having a heart catheter put in. He has made a few calls and on last one spoke with his pastor. When he did, he told him the same story I've heard three times now and then asked him to say a prayer. I watched as he closed his eyes and held his cell phone tightly to his ear. And although my prayers have been few lately, I said one for his father too.

There are babies that I want to hold and toddlers that I want sit on the floor and play with. A little blonde toddler is excited about the 'nana that her Dad just bought her, but her Mom who is holding a chunky blue-eyed baby girl, won't let her open it until they get on the plane.

But I must acknowledge that these are not their stories, this is only their now. 

***
As a senior in college this could potentially be my last Spring Break. Unless I am accepted into graduate school, and I'm assuming that even if I am, that will be different. By that time I’ll be considered a real adult.

I'm not quite sure how I feel about that yet or if I should feel anything. Many of my friends here are not in school, so they are taking time from their schedules, which haven't broken, to spend time with me.

I wonder if when this year is over I'll ever have the time, or the means to come spend a week with my friends. I'm worried about how often I'll get to come and just sit with my mom. I'm convinced that relationships need visits. Face to face time, eye contact, affection. Phone conversations, Skyping and texting are all nice, but those things will never be comparable to sitting around talking with your friends, having a cup of coffee on a Saturday morning or catching a movie on a whim. 

***

I will have nine days to enjoy in Tampa. I am excited and anxious and nervous. I’m not sure what lies before me in terms of the relationships that I cherish here. And the more I worry about them, the more I realize that I am wasting my energy.
What will be will be.

What’s important is that I want them to be, and for these nine days I will spend time enjoying them, nurturing them, holding on to them.

But I must acknowledge that these nine days are not telling of our story, they are only telling of our now. 

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