“Yeah,” I said. “I’m okay.”
After that, I sat on the porch until it got dark. The lake disappeared in stages. First the color. Then the shapes. Then everything but the sound of water touching the dock my grandfather built with his own hands.
Patience is not about waiting.
It is about knowing what you are waiting for.
I was not waiting anymore.
I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
If this story meant something to you, if you have ever started over from zero, if someone has ever underestimated what you were worth, if someone once left you something that only made sense after everything else fell apart, subscribe, because this is only one of the stories I have to tell.
And the next ones will surprise you.
