Lately, the issue of timing has come up a lot in my life. I have about 3 or 4 major life-changing events I am trying to get started (I subscribe to the "go big or go home" way of life) and as I mentioned, patience has not really been my strong suit lately. I've also mentioned general distaste for time as the answer for all things.
After Rip died, one of my first thoughts was that I could not go home and see the nursery. My family spent the month I was in the hospital getting it all ready for us to come home, and I didn't know if I face something else that was supposed to be happy and would now be just another sign of our loss.
I eventually decided to leave the nursery as it was, and I have been so glad that I did. For the first month all I could do was go there to cry. Eventually I started sitting there, in my great-grandmother's old rocking chair, and talking to Rip. Over the past six months I've been visiting the nursery more frequently, recently I even took time to look at the baby clothes I'd never seen, and it felt like some loose end was finally being tied. As the months go on, my eyes are opened to what I can handle in that room, it's been a huge part of the healing process for me.
So, I think there may be a lesson I can learn about time and timing from that nursery. I still don't believe that time heals all wounds,some are just not meant to be healed...but maybe if I can learn to trust that time, and timing, will open my eyes to what I need when I need it-and not a minute before, patience (or at least less impatience) will follow.