Waiting.

I rarely have to be somewhere “on time.”  I’m pretty sure my friends, especially Deborah, and Jeff, would say that I’m almost always late to any event or activity.  This has been the case most of my adult life, but oddly enough this was not how it was during my childhood.

Anytime that there was an appointment, such as a visit to a doctor’s office, my mother and I would arrive at least 20 minutes early.  And, according to my mother’s internal clock, this would be equivalent to being late.  I knew, in the way she acted, that we should expect to apologize for our tardiness, even though 20 minutes early has no hint of being late.

Strangely enough, after I became a Christian, this internal desire to not displease others left me.  I rebelled against the feelings that I had experienced as a child, in “never being early enough.”  Perhaps that was “never being enough.”

I hated myself growing up.  It is amazing that I turned out as well as I did, despite the glaring holes in my personality.   Fortunately, the same desire to please others, especially my mother, kept me relatively “in check.”  I didn’t try drugs in high school.  It wasn’t easily available at that time, and only imbibed, “Boone’s Farm” Apple, and Strawberry wine on occasions, such as Prom.

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