Today I went back to the place where she left me standing.
I must have been about 10 years old. It was after CCD classes on a Wednesday late afternoon. And I stood there waiting with my younger brother.
We waited and all the other children got picked up or started walking home. We waited and waited, until we anxiously started to walk to the corner. That was as far as I dared to go because I did not know the way home.
I remember staring at the brick buildings. I remember wondering where she was and when she was going to come for us. I struggle to remember the feelings, because they defy words.
And one day, one of those waiting days on that corner, when it seemed like we waited forever and the sky was growing dark, one of those days I must have decided that I need not wait for her any more. Some day, I would be big enough and I would know the way home. I would learn it. I would be able to walk home and not wait for her at anymore.
And I did. I walked to school. I walked to dance classes. I walked to stores. I walked to church.
And when the laundry was never done, I started to do the laundry. And when dinner was never cooked, I learned to cook it.
I did it. And it was done.
I did not have to tell her and have her not listen. I would not have to hear her excuses. I would not have to wait on the corner and wonder. I could do it myself. I could be done.
I walked that way today. Past the church where I had CCD. Past the corner where I stood 40 years ago and waited. And from there I walked home.
Use my words, she tells me. But my words never helped. She never understood. She never said she was sorry. There was always a good excuse. And the next time, she always did it again.
Don't abandon me, she tells me. But when we can not talk about it, how can we compromise? How long can I wait?
Until I am done.
And one by one, I became done with everyone and everything. It can not go on like this.
Father, You have called me to a place where I must confront, I must stay and fix it. I can not be done and walk away, walk home. But I do not know what to do. What do I do, Father? Give me the words of truth. Help them hear. Help us compromise.
And You alone, My Beloved, will get the glory.