On April 14th, 1996, I sat in the morning waiting for a phone call. My son’s Dad said he was going to call at 10am. He didn’t. 10am came and went, so did 11am. Of course I was angry. How could he keep me waiting like this, not that it was a big surprise, which is what angered me more.
At noontime, I decided to go take a nap. Two hours is long enough to wait for anyone. As I passed the front door on the way to the stairs, there was a knock on the door. I answered it and my son’s Grand dad was standing there.
You see, Bobby wasn’t going to be calling again. Bobby died that morning of a heart attack. He was 27 years old. I was in shock and that moment changed my life. It changed me.
Today is October 23rd, 2016. John is three hours late coming home. I am frozen inside. I feel sick. I feel as though there is no choice but to remain motionless and wait. I want to be angry. “How can you make me wait like this, you know how this makes me feel.” But I can’t be angry. Because I am frozen inside. I can’t worry, because if I do, I will make myself sicker. My mind is frozen. I am frozen. Time is frozen, but the clock is still changing, one number at a time. Digital red lights tell me a minute has passed.
I lock the door as a signal that I am not waiting anymore. His punishment for making me wait is that he has to knock. But I don’t hear a knock and I’m still waiting. Still frozen inside and the tears stream down my face because I don’t know how to feel, how to feel anything at all, because I’m frozen.
I go outside to smoke a cigarette. It would be nice to be sitting there when he comes home. If he comes home. When he comes home. If? I don’t know. I leave the door unlocked this time. I will have those moments between hearing the door and seeing him.
He can’t call me. I have no phone and so I can’t be angry. I know this customer of his is a pain in the ass. I know he had other things to do to. I know it could take this much time. Anything can happen. Anything. Anything.
I’m frozen by anything.