I can’t wait for her PSAT results. I can’t wait for someone to clearly explain magnetism to me so I really get it. I can’t wait for 2012 to be over. I can’t wait for my meds to kick in.
I can’t wait to finally trust someone again, especially if there is a power imbalance like with government and citizenry, or a father and his children, or when the power is supposed to be equal like with races and religions, or with a spouse. I can‘t wait to learn Tivo.
I can’t wait for the bug I can’t get out of my eye to die already and be absorbed into my body. I can’t wait for her to lose the triceps flab as expeditiously as she lost the weight. I can’t wait to realize that a mere list of imaginative non sequiturs constitute nothing other than insecure pretension. I can’t wait for Tom Brokaw to clear his throat. I can’t wait for her to give AA a second chance.
I can’t wait for my brother and sister to feel, as I do, the rush of supportive energy and the loving presence of our father who died the day before Thanksgiving. A week before he died he said something quite profound to us: he said he was “looking forward to possibly learning some of the big answers to some of the big questions.” He waited until he could wait no more. I realized then that life’s greatest gift is time.