I was never tested; if faced with an endless wait like this, would I sink or swim?

Dear Friend,

I don’t know how you do it.

Each day, without fail, you step outside to face the world again. Each day, you watch the carriages of time advance onward, clickety-clack, leaving you behind at the first station, waiting. Waiting for the sister and brother ahead of you to step on the train.

There’s no skipping. You must stand in line and wait. Your patience is tested daily. I truly am in awe of your patience, and simultaneously, I whisper a fervent hope that you don’t become impatient. B’ezras Hashem, one day soon, you will hold your ticket to happiness.

From my perch — busied by the needs of two small children — I wonder how you have the stamina to continue in the job you started the day we left seminary together, just four years ago. Without the thrill of engagement, the anticipation of a wedding, or the relief of maternity leave, how do you do it? With your own longing compounded by the deep desire to see your older siblings finally settled in their own homes, how do you find meaning and hope? How do you survive?

I envy the power you possess to face this challenge. I was never tested; if faced with an endless wait like this, would I sink or swim?

I cannot fully understand how you do it, watching as another one of our close friends marries and becomes a mother, while these dreams seem so distant from you. Yet I admire your strength and the courage you possess in facing this challenge. I admire the way you embrace each day with cheerfulness, appearing happy and content.

I want to tell you: I really respect you.

Your Friend

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 835)