The Quiet Tension Between Anticipation and Letting Go
Waiting is never just about time. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores the emotional weight of waiting, whether for joy, change, or the final chapter of a life well lived.
Waiting. Oh boy. What comes to mind when you read that title?
If you are caring for an elderly parent or friend, you have an immediate reaction to the word “waiting.” You have been waiting in rooms, reading old magazines, or attending doctors’ conferences, taking notes.
Perhaps you are waiting for a call from your daughter and son‑in‑law to welcome a new baby into the world. What a joy!
Perhaps you are waiting for a promotion announcement so you can celebrate with your friends and colleagues.
Perhaps you are waiting to celebrate your 100th birthday. I have a friend making plans for that.
Waiting puts us into a state of alert and anticipation.
I am waiting for a long‑term friend to die. His body has weakened, and he has decided to stop his dialysis treatment, which will surely lead to death. Family and friends are gathering to visit and to tell him how much he has meant to them over the years. For the next few days, his home will fill with visitors, as he has been important to so many.
His kindness to coworkers is legion. Somehow, he could meet people where they were and maintain his composure regardless of the circumstances. That sense of calm and composure was built over years of interaction with others, probably dating back to elementary school. I admire that.
I loved his stories about his father building their family home. The garage was built first, which might sound odd, but was actually brilliant. The family lived in the garage while his father built the house. I can identify with sleeping in the loft as great fun. Clearly, his father’s industry and creativity were a solid foundation for his own sense of responsibility and integrity.
I especially admire his sense of humor. He loves limericks, and whenever I try to write one for his birthday, he says, “Now, wait a minute,” and pulls out his pen to improve the rhyme.
He has a beautiful singing voice, so I imagine that a chorus of angels will welcome him into the tenor section. And he has a great, clever, wry sense of humor. He will fit right in with the choir.
Want to explore more about anticipatory grief, emotional resilience, and the meaning we make during life’s transitions? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on grief and connection and Greater Good’s research on compassion and end‑of‑life meaning.
If this reflection resonates with your own experience of waiting—whether for joy, change, or loss—therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support grounding, clarity, and emotional presence.
By Dr. Gloria K Vanderhorst
