I was almost late to work at 5:30pm, which is almost laughable, considering how many years of my career I spent setting multiple alarms to ensure waking up for a 7am call or the marking of a script dropped off at my door in the wee morning hours. But I got caught up in hearing about my kids' days, and in making sure they had good snacks, and in running errands to ensure they'd have what they needed. So that when I finally made my way to work, I suddenly didn't have as much extra time as I'd planned. The bus went as slowly as a bus could go (even changing drivers along the way). I had the realization that 5:30 is rush hour. I was on a bus heading in an exiting the city (even though I wasn't) direction AT RUSH HOUR. How could I possibly, possibly be late for a shift starting at 5:30pm?!
In the end, I arrived with a few minutes to spare--enough even to
acquire a snack (I'd been so busy with my kids' snacks, I'd neglected my
own). And while hindsight--the fact that I spent the extra time, yet
still made it--may be twenty-twenty, and while I may never want to
relive the stress of being on a slow bus and watching the drivers change
and thinking I should have done things differently, I can't help but be
grateful for the extra minutes when I heard about the moments of a
middle school day, or the intricacies of a Halloween costume plan or the
drama of a college essay. I can't help but be happy that I sat long
enough to look at faces and listen to voices and be Mom before I left to
be Working Mom.
We can't always know what will fill the path ahead. So we'd may as well
fill our selves, and our souls, with the good that is right in front of
us. Because somehow, there must always be time for that.