The Patience of Papaw

I’d stuck my head in the sand long enough. A week ago, I’d received bad news. I let it ride for a few days. As time marched on, however, I began to pull my head out of the sand and realized I could trust others only so far, and soon, I had to take care of me. Because Taking Care of Me = taking care of little people, furry people, and all the responsibilities that come with those people.


Just as my friend was trying to pry me from the ceiling concerning this issue, good news came. Things were back on track. Relief washed over me in waves that sent me straight to my father to tell him the good news. His response? “Some things just require a little “TIME”.” To which I responded, “Which is difficult for those of us who lack “PATIENCE”.”

The story he then related melted my heart. Seems my youngest child is part-time philosopher. As my father picked him up from school one day, my youngest said he needed to go back inside to throw away a piece of trash. With the patience of a true grandparent, my father waited for the offending article to be trashed. When my child came back out, he said, “Papaw, you have so much patience. Mom and Pop are always telling me to hurry up because we’re going to be late.”

A parent’s responsibilities never end: soccer practice, homework, art classes, church group, tutoring, basketball practice, baseball games, laundry, dishes, dinner, trips to the grocery store, feed/care of the pets, taking out the trash, recycling, working full-time, bedtime routines, and anything else that falls under ‘adult responsibilities’. For now though, it’s not my children’s responsibility to know what all I do during my day. I just want them to realize they are loved.

I can only hope they truly ‘see’ why I’m so harried and rushed when they grow up and have children of their own. And as they take care of all those responsibilities (because they love their children so much), I can finally have "the patience of Papaw”.