Waiting, just sitting there as I listen to the constant ticking of clock and the bustle of people continuing by me. Maybe it would not bother me if the lights were not glaring me in the eyes. However, this is the way a waiting room is. The description is within its name, and by that it means room where one would wait. I am doing just that. Sitting here patiently, or trying to sit patiently because as the amount of time continues to increase my nerves do as well. Other people may start to toss, turn, bounce their knee, fidget with a magazine, stare at the ceiling, tap their foot, anything to help them cope. Even though this works for others, it does not help past the time and that’s all I am focused on at this point. Just waiting for what I want. Another member in the waiting room must have noticed how worried I was for she came over and sat by me. Gentle at first, she started talking. Since I was focused on the person I was waiting for and my mind was traveling elsewhere, I was not aware that she was actually speaking to me. Then, she outstretched her hand and gently placed it upon my shoulder while saying, “Do not worry. Everything in life takes time, just like right now. So be patient because it all just takes time.” I listened to her as time continued to drag on, and my eyes traveled to the surroundings. First my eyes wander to the doctors and nurses, all of them just scurrying around like white clouds escaping the sky for a storm. My eyes linger farther into the hallways now, long and never ending as they wind through the hospital. Lastly, my eyes are pasted on one particular doctor as he guides me the path to my final destination point where I will reunite with someone.

The past 24 hours were times of traveling for my family. I was leaving South Carolina and heading home to Iowa, as the day before my mom and brother were leaving Iowa and going to Spain. I was leaving my vacation destination as my mom and brother were just arriving to theirs. In the car, I remained sitting as I waited for my sister to join me on our 13 hour ride home. “I’m ready to roll”, she said as she slid into the driver’s seat in the car where I had been waiting. Confirming to me with those three words that we were now on our way home. In the beginning, I was really excited to get home and settle into my house and unpack my bags, but after a while I lost the excitement. The more I thought about it, the more I thought about being home alone for 12 days. TWELVE DAYS. That’s 287 hours, 59 minutes, and 60 seconds. All alone, no one to do my laundry, or do the dishes, or make me food, or unpack my bags… Alright, my thoughts were beginning to lose themselves in a land of stress. Instead of being stressed before I actually faced the issue, I decided to change my focus to the surroundings.

There I was, sitting in the passenger seat as my eyes bounced from little pieces of my surroundings just craving to see my house. First my eyes dribbled over to the trees, scurrying past the window. My eyes continued to the mountains that stretched high into the sky, poking the clouds. Then my gaze would fall back onto the never ending road with yellow dashes. We zoomed along the path outstretched in front of us hoping to reach our destination soon. The nerves were building the more we sat in the car; the more “Welcome to…” state signs we passed by, the more rest areas glowing along the interstate, the more exit signs, each showing how far we have come, but how far we have to go. However, we were getting closer. Thus, making everyone a little more stir crazy, and making it even more of a challenge to sit still. I bounced my leg, and then I drummed my fingers along the window sill, and turned back and forth. Nothing worked though. If I could be walking right now, I would be pacing a hole through the floor like a nervous person on the outside of a waiting room. Our tension only got worse the longer we remained in the car. All of my nervousness must have tired me out because my eyes bounced off into dream land.

“Bing, bing, bing…” my phone rang out as I saw my uncles’ name flash across my screen. Since I was asleep before this abrupt waking, I was slow to answer the phone. As soon as I answered it though, I could tell something was wrong. My uncle was stuttering his words and his breathing was unsettled, just the way he began “Hey Sara, uhm, how is your house doing up there?”   He did not know I was going to be home alone; he only wanted to see how our house was. Why would he be asking about my house though? To answer this, there was a huge Iowan storm the night before when we were driving home. When I say huge, I mean huge. Huge enough to knock down EIGHT telephone poles, snap trees in half, and flood my uncle’s basement. In brief, Mother Nature was really angry and chose to take it out on my hometown. This would not be a worry for me, but I was still hours away from my house and no one would have been home since the storm happened. Here I am, in a car traveling across Illinois while my house is powerless and possibly damaged.  Undeniably, I was freaking out on the inside and really needed to get home.

The scene before my eyes was like a scary movie. Tree branches were knocked down! Trash was sprinkled across our water logged grass. Our mail was blown out of our mailbox and soaking wet. But that’s not all. Trouble lingered inside as I followed it into a boiling house. As the door creaked open I felt a warm rush of air hit my face and slowly engulf me as I lingered onto the creaking wood floor. I followed a flickering flash light into the darkness of my basement trying to find any other issues in my house. Splash! Before I could even think straight my foot stepped into a water filled piece of carpet in the corner of my basement. Then, I lingered my way into the back side of the basement where water came in the cracks of the cement wall. Not only did I have all of these issues, but I had to face them in the dark. To beat the darkness, I opened a window to let in some day light, but then I saw my garbage can two fields down. Before I tackled that obstacle I was hungry, so I went to the fridge for food. Everything was warm. The food must have been spoiled, along with my relaxing stay at home.

When people are handed difficult situations their body goes into fight or flight mode. “Ding, ding!” I hear the bell of a competition ring in my head. Instantly with all these issues I figured I better tackle a few issues first, so I decided to fight. Following this decision, I began sprinting around my house arranging all of our beach towels onto the water effected areas. “Ding!” First match was finished and now I’m onto my next. This fight was between me and my speed, how fast could I move all of our cold food from freezers and the fridge into coolers? The answer; fast.  Another bell rang in my head as I finished the previous task. Now, all I could do was stress about how my plans have been ruined. This food was supposed to last me 12 days, and it already had the chance of being spoiled. I let out a loud sigh of relief after knowing many of my issues were now handled. Contrary to my past actions of fighting my battles, I just decided to sit back and try to relax.
This point in time all I really wanted to do was call my mom and vent to her about all of the issues happening back home. On the other hand, I did not want to have her worrying about me while she is over in Spain. Plus, I knew that was not possible though because when it was 4pm here, it was 11pm over there.

At this moment, my mom is having the time of her life in some unknown country. My brother and mom are both wandering around endlessly in a beautiful scenic area. Their only worry in the world is keeping up with their tour guide, or getting a brain freeze from too much ice cream. They are walking through cute little shops with cute little souvenirs in a cute little country. On the other hand, I am stranded in a very familiar place, my house, yet it feels so foreign. The room and interior is so dark that my only source of lighting is from the window. Then, I peer out the window admiring the bland Iowa scenery which includes bland endless rows of corn, followed by bland acres of beans, and the bland colored trees along the borders. Nothing can seem to cheer me up. At this moment in time, everything is dark and gloomy and rotten like our food. Still, the power is off. Pacing the floor seems to be become a new hobby as I impatiently wait for my lights to come on. Continuing my never ending movements I try to focus on something that will hopefully keep my mind busy, a magazine. However, how can someone read when the lights are off? They simply can not read in the dark. Then, with all this bustling about and nervous thinking, I thought back to that moment in my past when I was told by some kind old sole “Be patient, because it all takes time.” I take her advice and I decide to just sit down and wait patiently.

While I was waiting there I heard a strange noise, then my house lit up like a rocket. All the lights were blasting, along with the TV’s and radios. If I did not live there, I would assume there was a party going on. None of the loud noise or random lights turning on bothered me though, for I finally had power. Like many say, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but this time it was my house. I continued fixing my house to its normal self, starting with the food. The food went in the fridge the same way it left, quickly. Next thing I did was collect the towels from the wet areas and wash them to return them to their homes in the closet. Finally, I went outside and stacked up enough branches to live like a beaver for the next month. When I finished, I felt accomplished like I just ran a marathon or something. The house was back in the same condition it was when my mom left, so my job was done.

The saying is true; there is a calm after the storm. This was proven to me when the following days were fairly easy compared the first day home alone. Everything was back in its correct spot, including me. I was home in Iowa. The only thing missing though was my family who was a whole country away, in a different time zone even. This meant I was back to waiting; waiting for my sister to join me, waiting to get out of the car, waiting for the storm to pass, waiting for the power to turn on. All of these things eventually happened, it just took time. Either way, I was glad that I was now able to sit down and relax like I planned the first day when I got home. Time to sit and wait. Suddenly, my train of thought derailed as I was peering out the window and saw my garbage can lying there patiently two fields down. Crap.