Minutes felt like hours as I sat in the sterile hospital waiting room wondering when the nurse would tell me how my girlfriend was doing. Looking around, every kind of person was sitting in the stiff green chairs with wooden arms. All with the same anxiety of wondering if someone we love will be ok.
The pressure was palpable. Every time I would return after using the restroom or taking a walk, I was met with 15+ pairs of eyes darting my way. Each of us just waiting for an update to relieve the anxiety that shows up when you’re hoping for the best and know the worst is possible. Then you add a wait? It’s a lot.
Thankfully in these waiting rooms, they don’t show news. Just TVs with patient numbers and the others on HGTV. I get why they chose that channel. No drama. No suspense. Just beautiful views and unrealistic budgets. Nothing to add to the weight already waiting in that room.
Just outside the door in the hallway between the entry and waiting area were conference rooms set aside for doctors to meet the families for updates. As I passed one, I heard a small girl asking why bad things were happening to her mommy. A wave of emotion swept me back to a call in a hospital parking lot in Colorado as I explained to a friend her husband was dead. Again in the lobby when his daughter arrived. Then even farther back to the day I got the call saying my mom had a heart attack.
For many years after, I found myself asking the same question as that sweet kid - not just in the hospital but in everyday life when bad things would happen. Why is this happening? What purpose does it serve? I’ve noticed the conversation is creeping into dinner conversations with friends now, too. Their answers always surprise me.
It appears half of my friends have faith in a higher power of some sort - some call it the Universe, God, Allah, etc. - and the other half believe we’re simply doomed in some ways. Their reasoning is built on many experiences that make it hard to believe in whimsy and would leave any normal person wondering who’s to blame. Death. Divorce. Change without choice.
I’ve started to find myself in the middle - somewhere between absolute faith and doom - believing that all that bad shit prepares us to be the good. I know this is some kind of unnamed physics. I find it in that little nudge I feel to call an old friend. When I just know someone will love this song. When I lean into the instinct - those people are exactly what I need. I am what they need.
There’s a little magic in believing all the bad has prepared us to be the good for each other. To be the love someone needs. To be the string that brings them into the fabric of humanity when they feel so alone. I can only hope that next time I find myself waiting and wondering why, I’ll remember to lean into the instincts. To find the person whose bad has prepared them to be the good.
