Anticipation often leads to giddiness. I remember as a child watching cookies baking in the oven and being happyhappyhappy waiting for the buzzer to go off. On Christmas morning, my sisters and I would sit in the hallway of our home in front of the wall heater literally shaking in anticipation for our parents to give us the green light to run out and see what Santa left for us. But anticipation ages, like an oak barrel ages scotch or a balsamic vinegar. It becomes complex and deeper….and it’s value also increases. The longer we wait for something, the longer the delay, the longer the arrival of something, either planned or unavoidable, the more it is worth and the more we revel in it. No one gobbles prosciutto. No one is doing slammers with 30 year old single malt and Sprite. You don’t make sangria with the highly coveted wine you buy at auction or have shipped from New Zealand. You savor it. People can mistake the lack of fidgety, flapping, junior high girl squealing giddiness for a lack of enthusiasm. Don’t be mistaken. It’s also not a lack of a young heart, an incapacity to be thrilled or overwhelmed. It’s just that the anticipation of a long desired thing also ages. The instantaneous joy of winning a jackpot on a scratch off ticket is far different than watching your child walk across the stage to receive their college diploma, one is a flash point while the other is a well banked fire.
I received very wonderful news two days ago, news that is transformative. Instead of being slap happy and shrieking as if to find my name on the final roster of the varsity basketball team, I was like the Fonz. A cool cat. Inside, in my heart, I was soaring, absolutely soaring. I don’t think my feet have touched the ground since yet to observe me, I likely seem no different. I’ve gone to work but work has been modestly easier. I do my chores, but I took a measure of pleasure in the clean house. The daily rhythm is just that, a rhythm and no longer a grind. That is the result of long and well aged anticipation. I have wanted and planned and worked toward this goal with countless obstacles, obstructions, failures and rejections. There have been many points – many points – along the way where I simply had to accept the likely loss and failure of it all. But I didn’t. Call that faith or hope or stubbornness or tenacity; call it madness for at times it felt as if I was a madwoman. But two days ago, I received the good news. It is a fine and fitting announcement on the eve of the Easter Triduum, it is the perfect time to have finally received good news.