Selective Counting

Keith is out of town...again.

When we first married, he traveled ALOT! In fact, he almost missed our youngest son, Caleb's, birth. He informed me at the beginning of one extra-long trip that I had a ten-day window in which to go into labor. This window occurred between May 18 thru May 28. Caleb was due June 5th. Having been in labor three times before, I knew when the pains started on May 17th, I was in trouble. I tried to put off going to the hospital until Keith arrived home early the next morning, but when my water started to leak, I didn't have a choice. My last baby was born 17 minutes after arriving at the hospital. The one before was an hour and a half. The first was more typical at 10 hours. Number four could have been born in the van en route. One of my sisters drove as I "hee-hee-hooed" my Lamaze breathing and cried, certain that Keith would miss the event.

The nurse who checked us in knew the situation and did her best to cheer me up, but when the first check showed that I was 8 cm dilated at 10:00 p.m., there wasn't much hope. Then, it happened. The contractions stopped. The water quit leaking. I was still dilated, but active labor ceased completely. The nurse told me that my will to have Keith present at the birth stopped my labor. The night passed slowly. The doctor came often to check on me. Nurses changed. My story must not have been passed on to the new shift as the middle of the night check went something like this:

"Hi, I am Sue. I need to check you again."

She turned to smile at my sister, patiently sitting next to me.

"Would you like your 'special friend' to stay or should she wait in the hall?"

My family left messages at airports to have Keith go directly to the hospital, none of which he received. They left a note on our front door, which he didn't see since he went through the garage. He noticed I wasn't in bed and the other boys were gone, put two and two together and headed to the maternity ward.

Labor started again shortly after he arrived, my sister went home to sleep and Caleb was born shortly thereafter on May 18th. That was not the first, nor has it been the last of sleepless nights when Keith is gone.

Neither of us sleeps much when he travels. During his first cancer battle he didn't travel at all. I was so glad because having him next to me at such a stressful time was exactly what we both wanted and needed. He traveled a bit during the next few years, mostly on short 2-3 day trips. Whenever he would leave Monday morning at 5:00 and return home on Wednesday at midnight, he selectively counted the days and informed me that he would only be gone one day.

"I'm here on Monday and here on Wednesday, so I am only gone one day."

Right. 56 hours equals 1 day. Only in Keith's head is that true!

I found out within the last few years that Keith's brother, Mark, counts similarly. He tells his wife and family that a Monday through Friday trip lasts only 3 days and if he leaves at 4:00 a.m. one day and comes back at midnight the same day, he isn't gone at all!

Funny how we can justify and rationalize anything. Whether we have selective hearing, selective memories or selective counting, the truth is that 56 hours is a long time for a loved one to be gone, yet we as Christians know that an entire life is but a blink of an eye compared to an eternity.

The wife of a friend of mine was diagnosed with incurable leukemia. Her life here on earth is numbered, as all of ours are, yet she smiles and speaks only of today. She in confident in her eternity and knows that one day, in the blink of an eye her family will join her as though she hasn't been away at all!

Keith is the traveler whose trip is over in a snap and I am the one left at home, while time drags. The nights are long and sleepless, but the anticipation of being together again keeps me going. We are all on one side or the other of that scenario. One day we will all be together on the other side, waiting for those we love to join us. What a glorious day that will be. Until then, I will continue to count the minutes until Keith is back home and he will continue to selectively count those minutes.

This story reminds me of a song by Carolyn Arends: "We've Been Waiting for You"

We've Been Waiting For You
words and music by Carolyn Arends

Let me hold you close, I know you're frightened
Go ahead and cry, I understand
You were safe and you were warm
And then suddenly without a warning
Things began to change
It must have seemed so strange

To all at once be traveling a journey
All the way to this delivery room
But baby you are not alone
Your room is ready, let's go home
You're gonna like it here
Let me make it clear that

We've been waiting for you
We're so glad you came
We've been looking forward
To showing you the place
There's so much in store and
We've been waiting for you

I know it can take some getting used to
But this old world is where you're meant to be
Life is something not to miss
The taste of ice cream, your first kiss
And when love takes your hand
You will understand why

We've been waiting for you
We're so glad you came
We've been looking forward
To showing you the place
There's so much in store and
We've been waiting for you

And watching you come into this world
Baby, you've made me believe
Another journey awaits us
So when I have to leave

I am pretty sure that I'll be frightened
But even if I cry, please understand
I will know I'm not alone
When my room is ready I'll go home
And when I reach the gate
I'm going to hear them saying

We've been waiting for you
We're so glad you came
We've been looking forward
To showing you the place
There's so much in store and
We've been waiting for you

(C) 1998 by New Spring Publishing/running arends music/ASCAP. All rights administered by Brentwood-Benson Music Publishing, Inc.

Listen Now!

http://ilike.myspacecdn.com/play#Carolyn+Arends:We%27ve+Been+Waiting+For+You:2230275:s27501951.8113073.2547333.0.2.150%2Cstd_75e3e9db59d945afbb6f72265f73a24e

Dishwasher Intelligence

I know for fact, without a doubt, that all the males in my household are extremely intelligent beings. They get good grades in school, can carry on conversations about many diverse subjects, they speak correct and fluent English along with some of at least one other language.

Why is it, then, that none of them are able to completely unload the dishes from the dishwasher?

It seems that even though unloading the dishes is the only task they must complete on a semi-regular basis they cannot figure out or remember where certain items are kept. They easily handle the glasses and seem to be capable of shoving plastic storage containers in the proper cabinet (not neatly, of course, but they do get there.) The youngest has mastered the silverware and even he complains that no one else realizes there are two different sets of flatware and should be separated appropriately.

I try to demonstrate where everything else belongs. They watch me open cabinets and point out the similar items like one of the gals on “The Price is Right.” I can almost hear the announcer,

“And behind door number one we have….bakeware! Cake pans, brownie pans, muffin tins and cookie sheets, all the bakeware any kitchen needs.”

“But wait, under the next cabinet we have…frying pans, sauce pans and griddles! Stove top cooking has never been easier!”

For some reason, though, there continues to be a pile of items on the counter or remaining in the dishwasher, just waiting to be reunited with their friends. I could understand if I had only one of everything…one Pyrex baking dish, one measuring cup, one microwave safe dish, one mixing bowl…but I have several of each and I store all like items together. Something is amiss. Either they really don’t understand the concept of organizing kitchen cabinets, or have decided to take the easy way of a chore. It can’t be the latter…they are much too smart to try to pull that over on me.