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Just Waiting for the Bus<\/span><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019m quite sure you\u2019ve noticed how slow time passes when you\u2019re waiting for something. I guess it really depends on what you\u2019re waiting for. If you\u2019re waiting for something wonderful to happen, time passes slowly; if you\u2019re waiting for something bad to happen, then time flies. It\u2019s all connected, I think, to Einstein\u2019s theory that says time is relative \u2013 it depends on your vantage point.<\/span><\/p>\n Anyway\u2026 I\u2019m sitting here waiting for the bus. I\u2019m going home. I could wait for the bus in my house, it\u2019s right over there around the corner, but today\u2019s an extraordinary winter day. The sun is shining, it\u2019s almost 60 degrees, and there\u2019s a hint of spring in the air. I don\u2019t want to waste such a wonderfully pleasant day in the middle of winter \u2013 soon the cold, heartless, bitter soul of winter will be back and I\u2019ll not be able to wait for the bus out here, that\u2019s for sure.<\/span><\/p>\n Sure, you can sit next to me on the bench. I don\u2019t mind. Not my bench\u2026city\u2019s. I was thinking about getting up and getting a cup of coffee though. Would you like to join me? There\u2019s a little convenience store down the street. It\u2019s called \u201cJoe\u2019s\u201d and Joe still owns it, I believe. I\u2019ll be darned if I know his last name. I\u2019ve frequented his store hundreds of times over the years, to pick up a gallon of milk or a bag of ice \u2013 but usually only when the supermarket is closed; Joe\u2019s prices are outrageous.<\/span><\/p>\n Except for the coffee.<\/span><\/p>\n Joe makes the best coffee and sells it cheap. A big cup is just a buck. I bet you\u2019ll say it\u2019s the best coffee you ever had. It\u2019s the best coffee I\u2019ve ever had anyway. It sure beats those places like Starbucks that serve up some nasty tasting coffee \u2013 for $5 or $6. <\/span><\/p>\n Save your money, my friend. If you want coffee that tastes like a warm milkshake, Starbucks is the place to go \u2013 but if you want a plain cup of real coffee, you can\u2019t beat Joe\u2019s. Come on, join me. It\u2019s only a five-minute walk.<\/span><\/p>\n Let\u2019s go.<\/span><\/p>\n It\u2019s nice of you to walk with me. It\u2019s not often that I have company anymore. I am an opposing magnet these days \u2013 you know, pushing people away as if I were some sort of pariah. I don\u2019t think I am \u2013 maybe it\u2019s just my demeanor.<\/span><\/p>\n But it doesn\u2019t bother me.<\/span><\/p>\n When I was much younger it seemed if people did not surround me, I was unhappy \u2013 no, in fact, I was miserable. Now that I\u2019m older, I spend a great deal of my time alone. Funny thing is, I really don\u2019t mind it at all.<\/span><\/p>\n I kind of like it.<\/span><\/p>\n I really don\u2019t have much to do these days. Some nights I struggle to say awake past 8:00 PM because I\u2019m sleepy or bored. I love to read, but lately, no matter how exciting or interesting a book is, I fall asleep reading. When I wake up, there\u2019s the book on the floor, and I\u2019ve lost my place. I have to fiddle and fumble around to try to figure out where I left off. But I do still love to read \u2013 these days mostly newspapers & magazines. I have a computer and a tablet, but I find, in my world, there\u2019s nothing like the feel and the smell of a real newspaper or a real book in my hand.<\/span><\/p>\n Am I boring you? I know I ramble on sometimes. Perhaps most of the time. Well, I guess it\u2019s because I\u2019m used to talking to myself. It never seems like I am rambling on to me. That\u2019s one thing nice about talking to myself \u2013 I don\u2019t mind the rambling or disconnected thoughts. I\u2019m sorry. I\u2019ll try not to ramble. I promise \u2014 Joe\u2019s is right up there \u2014 third door down. See? It\u2019s the one with the red sign above the white door. \u201cJoe\u2019s Corner Market\u201d. Got to give him credit. He\u2019s a survivor. It\u2019s one of the few mom & pop convenience stores left in this world of instant convenience.<\/span><\/p>\n Let\u2019s go in and I\u2019ll buy you a cup of the best java you\u2019ve ever had\u2026 what do you say? Great! Let\u2019s go.<\/span><\/p>\n How\u2019s that coffee? See? I told you. No one would ever guess that a dilapidated, out-of-date store, like Joe\u2019s, could serve up such a heavenly brew. Hey\u2026 I must be getting back to the bus stop now, you never know when that bus will come. They don\u2019t operate on a schedule.<\/span><\/p>\n Sure, you can walk back with me. Glad to have you along. You can sit with me at the bus stop if you like, I\u2019ve got nothing else to do these days, but wait for the bus. It just never seems to come. Oh! But it will come \u2013 I am certain of that.<\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019m going home, did I tell you? I\u2019ve been away so long. So awfully long.<\/span><\/p>\n There we go. The bench at the bus stop is still empty \u2013 waiting for me. Getting a little chillier not. The wind is picking up. Well, it\u2019s not sixty degrees anymore, but it still doesn\u2019t feel like winter. More like a chilly day in April \u2014 or a mild day in March, I\u2019d say. How about you? <\/span><\/p>\n By the time evening comes it will be bone-rattling cold. I\u2019m not worried, if the bus hasn\u2019t come by then, I\u2019ll just go back to my old house, curl up under a comforter on the couch and read until I fall asleep. I think tonight\u2019s going to be another early night for me \u2014 that is if my bus doesn\u2019t come.<\/span><\/p>\n What\u2019s that? Oh, I\u2019m afraid that\u2019s something I can\u2019t explain or teach you. You\u2019re far too young yet, you\u2019d never understand. It\u2019s something you must learn by living; it can\u2019t be taught.<\/span><\/p>\n It\u2019s a funny thing \u2013 they say you can learn things so much easier when you are young because your mind is more open to learning \u2013 but there are things you can\u2019t learn until the years pass. <\/span><\/p>\n What things, you ask? I can\u2019t explain. If I could, I would. I\u2019m not trying to be coy, or mysterious or condescending. Honest. I really can\u2019t explain why I can\u2019t explain this to you. I do promise though, as you get older, you\u2019ll know.<\/span><\/p>\n Oh really? I\u2019m sorry to have kept you so long. I forgot how busy I used to be at your age. I hope I didn\u2019t bore you to death. Oh, let me take that \u2014 there\u2019s a trash bin right there on the corner. I\u2019ll toss it for you on my way back to the house. <\/span><\/p>\n It was a pleasure meeting you too, miss. I hope you have a great rest of the day. It\u2019s not often I have the pleasure of the company of a pretty young lady. You made my day. Yes, that\u2019s true. I may indeed see you again. I sit out here on this bench quite often \u2013 when the weather isn\u2019t too bad. Yes, I\u2019d like that. You know I just might see you again \u2013 if the weather is nice and my bus hasn\u2019t come yet.<\/span><\/p>\n Thanks for saying that. I was so afraid I was boring you. Goodbye, miss.<\/span><\/p>\n Oh, what\u2019s that? Ok. Well then, goodbye Jenny, it was nice meeting you.<\/span><\/p>\n That wind is getting colder. Time to start heading back to the house.<\/span><\/p>\n What a nice young lady. It was nice to have company \u2013 or at least someone who seemed interested in talking with me, I must admit. It\u2019s been a while \u2013 OK, I admit \u2013 it has been a long time. Most of my friends these days live in books\u2026 or in my memory. All I have left of \u2013 what\u2019s her name \u2013 Jenny -that\u2019s right \u2013 is this empty cup that I\u2019m about to toss away. Well, she\u2019s not in a book \u2013 I would bet she\u2019ll live in my memory for a while anyway. <\/span><\/p>\n Maybe she\u2019ll meet some of my old friends there. Maybe I\u2019ll even remember her until the bus comes and I am finally on my way home.<\/span><\/p>\n We\u2019ll see.<\/span><\/p>\n It\u2019s already getting dark. Another long winter night ahead. It seems cold in here. The thermostat says 71. Wonder why I\u2019m so cold? I\u2019m not turning up the heat \u2013 the thermostat says it\u2019s 71 so it must be \u2013 feels like 55 to me.<\/span><\/p>\n Think I\u2019ll lie down on the couch and read a book. I\u2019ve been reading the same book for over a week now \u2013 it\u2019s only 351 pages. When I was in college, I was reading a book every other day. I was a voracious reader. Not so much anymore. Love to read \u2013 just can\u2019t stay awake.<\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019m on page 171. Almost halfway through. Normally, I would not put up with a book that made me trudge through over 100 pages to get to the point where the book piqued my interest, but H.R. Galamay is one of my favorite authors, so I persevered through the boring start and now I\u2019m glad I did. It\u2019s getting interesting.<\/span><\/p>\n Now if I could only keep my eyes open.<\/span><\/p>\n Before I get comfortable. I better eat something. I\u2019m hungry. Don\u2019t get me wrong, it\u2019s not like if I skipped a meal, I\u2019d blow away. I figure I could skip a month\u2019s worth of meals before I was thin enough to blow away. When I was younger, I was always on a diet. Ha! The foibles of youth.<\/span><\/p>\n I think there\u2019s some tuna fish salad left in the fridge. I made it 2 days ago, so it should be OK to eat. It smells OK. I\u2019ll heat up some soup and make myself a sandwich.<\/span><\/p>\n When I sit down to eat dinner, I usually find myself flipping on the TV for the company \u2013 or else lose myself in thought reflecting on the day. Most days the TV wins \u2013 not much to reflect on. <\/span><\/p>\n Today is not one of those days.<\/span><\/p>\n I wonder if I bored her. Did I rattle on too much about Joe\u2019s coffee? What difference does it make? Really?<\/span><\/p>\n I laugh at myself a lot. Like it really matters if I rambled on too much about Joe\u2019s coffee \u2013 what does it matter what anyone thinks. She seemed interested in what I had to say \u2013 she made me feel like a wise old sage \u2013 it felt good to be noticed for something. <\/span><\/p>\n But I don\u2019t know why she sat with me and listened to me \u2013 and what\u2019s most important: It doesn\u2019t matter. I was waiting for the bus like I do every day and she came along and talked to me. That\u2019s all I know for sure. <\/span><\/p>\n She probably felt sorry for me \u2013 sitting alone on that bench staring off into space. I bet I looked like I had nothing better to do. Looks don\u2019t always deceive, do they? Maybe she\u2019s just one of those empathetic, in-tune-with-humanity\u2019s-woes<\/em> types. Not that I have any particular woes for her to tune in to.<\/span><\/p>\n I am just waiting for the bus.<\/span><\/p>\n The sandwich was so-so \u2013 the tuna salad needed more celery. The soup was typical canned soup \u2013 salty and hot. Good enough to dunk my sandwich into, anyway.<\/span><\/p>\n Often wonder about the \u201clast\u201d this and the \u201clast\u201d that. You know \u2013 there is always a last time for everything. I don\u2019t want to be morbid, but it\u2019s true. There will be a last time for everything. Last time I brush my teeth, last time I take a walk, last time I\u2019ll drink coffee, last time I\u2019ll answer the phone, last time I look up at the sky, last time I\u2019ll go to bed, last time I\u2019ll get up…<\/span><\/p>\n Ha! .. last time I\u2019ll eat tuna salad\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n It\u2019s a good thing I don\u2019t know when the last time I\u2019ll do a certain thing is. Can you imagine the pressure? If I knew it was the last time I\u2019d be going to bed \u2013 do you think I\u2019d go to bed? I\u2019d never go to bed, but I\u2019d probably fall asleep in a chair or something and never wake up. Is that morbid? Nah. It\u2019s just me.<\/span><\/p>\n Now if I knew this would be the last time I\u2019d be going to the bathroom\u2026 that would be a real problem. I don\u2019t think I could put that off for a day or two.<\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019m tired. I have been waiting for the bus for such a long time. It seems, now, that my life has come down to mostly waiting for the bus. Just waiting for the bus to take me home. I haven\u2019t been home in decades.<\/span><\/p>\n I was just thinking\u2026 why do people say someone\u2019s \u201cgone\u201d when they die? I\u2019ve always wondered that. You see it in movies all the time: The grim doctor, the old wife with the careworn face. She looks at her husband and then she looks at the doctor and all the doctor says is \u201cHe\u2019s gone, Sally. I\u2019m sorry\u201d. Is he sorry he\u2019s gone? Or is he sorry for Sally? Or is he sorry at all? Doesn\u2019t matter at all \u2013 it\u2019s just a movie.<\/span><\/p>\n Tomorrow will be another day of waiting for the bus. This bus does not run on a schedule, but it is the bus that always comes.\u00a0 And this bus that will finally take me home.<\/span><\/p>\n Maybe the bus will come tonight. It could, you know. It very well might.<\/span><\/p>\n Maybe tonight\u2019s the night it will stop for me and take me home. If it does, I wonder how long it will be before someone comes to my house looking for me? A day? Two days? Longer? I wonder who it might be? The mailman? UPS guy? Jenny? When they find me, will they say \u201cHe\u2019s gone?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n In that case, they\u2019d be right. I\u2019d be gone, all right.<\/span><\/p>\n It\u2019s the same bus I rode in on; I\u2019ll be taking that same bus home\u2026 whenever it comes.<\/span><\/p>\n So, I\u2019m just waiting for the bus. Aren\u2019t we all?<\/span><\/p>\n Because I could not stop for Death<\/span><\/strong> \u201cBecause I could not stop for Death \u2013<\/span> We slowly drove \u2013 He knew no haste<\/span> We passed the School, where Children strove<\/span> Or rather \u2013 He passed us \u2013<\/span> We paused before a House that seemed<\/span> Since then \u2013 \u2019tis Centuries \u2013 and yet<\/span> \u2026Emily Dickinson 1862<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Just Waiting for the Bus I\u2019m quite sure you\u2019ve noticed how slow time passes when you\u2019re waiting for something. I guess it really depends on what you\u2019re waiting for. If you\u2019re waiting for something wonderful to happen, time passes slowly; if you\u2019re waiting for something bad to happen, then time flies. It\u2019s all connected, I\u2026 Read More »<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":13582,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[228],"tags":[1720],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20144"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20144"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20144\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20145,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20144\/revisions\/20145"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/13582"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20144"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20144"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thundercloud.net\/infoave\/new\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20144"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nby Emily Dickinson<\/span><\/p>\n
\nHe kindly stopped for me \u2013<\/span>
\nThe Carriage held but just Ourselves \u2013<\/span>
\nAnd Immortality.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nAnd I had put away<\/span>
\nMy labor and my leisure too,<\/span>
\nFor His Civility \u2013<\/span><\/p>\n
\nAt Recess \u2013 in the Ring \u2013<\/span>
\nWe passed the Fields of Gazing Grain \u2013<\/span>
\nWe passed the Setting Sun \u2013<\/span><\/p>\n
\nThe Dews drew quivering and chill \u2013<\/span>
\nFor only Gossamer, my Gown \u2013<\/span>
\nMy Tippet \u2013 only Tulle \u2013<\/span><\/p>\n
\nA Swelling of the Ground \u2013<\/span>
\nThe Roof was scarcely visible \u2013<\/span>
\nThe Cornice \u2013 in the Ground \u2013<\/span><\/p>\n
\nFeels shorter than the Day<\/span>
\nI first surmised the Horses\u2019 Heads<\/span>
\nWere toward Eternity \u2013\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n