How much of human life is lost in waiting. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
We’re constantly waiting for something. Whether it’s a cab, or a relationship to bloom, or a decision, or somebody, or for a day, or for life. We’re constantly waiting.
Someone once said that the hospital is a place people go with questions but in which they do not come out with an answer but an extension. I walked into a ward and on every bed laid a life – a story. In this room there were two stories.
Erica
Her book of life is stained with blood - blood from her wrist. As I entered the room, I see her sit up on her bed talking to the company of people who comes to lend a support, who tries to wipe that blood stains on her book and flip it to a new page, who is trying to give her one reason to live.
A few feet away, lay another story, an aged one. One in which wisdom whispers through its pages, and its pages reaching the end.
Pakiam
Her fragile body lay quiet on the mattress. Her hair white pulled neatly to a knot behind, every strand representing the years she took upon writing her pages. As I watched her lay, her brittle legs start moving. And she pushed her legs out of bed by the side bars of the bed. Her hands held tight on the bar as she pushed herself to the corner of her bed. All she ever wants to do is stand. But because her legs were too weak she couldn’t.
I listened as Pakiam spoke of the people she loves. Her children, whom oblivious for her own good that they have abandoned her long ago. She took my friend who was standing next to me as her child, and begun talking about the times she has been waiting for her.
It’s ironic that the one whose book is left with so many blank chapters is trying to end the book. The one who has all the support is still in need of love. The one who can stand wants to fall. But the one who’s book is about to end, has not stopped writing. The one who has no support, and who is abandoned can show love. And the one who knows she will fall if she stands up, never stops trying.
But what more is that this two stories are just laying a few feet away from each other in the same room – waiting. Waiting to leave the room for different reasons.
In many ways, we are all waiting. Question is, what are we waiting for? The great John Lenon says, life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. I think, life is what passes you by when you’re busy waiting.
If only we all know the reason Pakiam tries to stand up again and again although she knows she will most definitely fall, we might stop waiting any longer and try standing up. Try at least – to put one feet in front of another. To move. To live life as it comes.
Pakiam stood up again the next day. She fell again with her legs bruised. But that very day, her daughter had come to see her.
What are you waiting for?
