Remember that awful movie about the man who had a magical remote and could fast forward or rewind his own life? If you don’t remember it, don’t worry. You’re better for it.
I certainly feel as though someone’s got a magical remote and is pointing it at me with maniacal schadenfreude.
Waiting Fun Fact #1: My first school dance happened in the middle of the afternoon when I was in sixth grade. We were told to bring cassettes (yes, “cassettes.” I’m a grandpa) cued to our favourite songs and someone would play those songs while we awkwardly moved in a dimly lit gymnasium.
My musical selection was “The Look” by Roxette.
There’s a musical pause during that song. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but it caught our easily embarrassed twelve-year-old crowd so off guard, no one knew whether to freeze or keep moving through the silence.
So excruciating was that musical pause, that a boy I danced with to a later song wouldn’t stop talking about it and I had to pretend “The Look” hadn’t been MY musical contribution.
Waiting Fun Fact #2: When I was eighteen and at the end of my freshman year of university, I decided to summon the courage to tell the guy I’d been falling for all year how I felt. I put my heart on a platter, garnished it with courage and hope, and handed it to him.
After I bravely confessed my uncensored feelings to him, there was a pause.
A pause that lasted eons.
I lost years of my life during that pause.
I’m sure I developed an ulcer and sprouted several grey hairs.
…And then he told me he was moving in with his girlfriend. Imminently.
Waiting for a response from someone can turn time into taffy. Time stretches slowly. It becomes sticky.
Waiting for news, be it exciting or terrible, takes time and warps it until seconds feel like hours and days drag on like an F1 race with infinite laps. Will the checkered flag ever wave? It doesn’t feel like it.
Time’s ability to morph and twist isn’t always a bad thing.
Waiting Fun Fact #3: I had no idea MLC was going to propose when he told me we had to drop by his parents’ place to feed their dog. We walked into his house and there were roses everywhere. MLC picked up the ring box and began speaking. In the seconds it took for him to ask me to marry him, I remember thinking, “I need to remember all of this. This is a monumental moment in my life.” It felt as though time stopped.
When time no longer obeyed the rules of seconds and minutes during MLC’s proposal, I was able to settle into the moment and feel it.
Perhaps I am the one holding the remote in my own life, deciding when to fast forward and when to put things in slow motion. If so, it may be time to change the batteries.