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Just You Wait and See

There’ll be bluebirds overThe white cliffs of DoverTomorrow, just you wait and see
The shepherd will tend his sheepThe valley will bloom againAnd Jimmy will go to sleepIn his own little room again
There’ll be bluebirds overThe white cliffs of DoverTomorrow, just you wait and see

~

One afternoon while driving, I heard Vera Lynn sing “The White Cliffs of Dover”, a poetic song about hope at the end of wartime. My ear honed in on the phrase “Just You Wait and See” and I began to think about how often those hopeful words are used. I’ve said it myself when trying to reassure someone that everything would be alright.  Just you wait and see…

Lately there is not much in the world that feels interesting to me. So many of the things I relied on to stir my soul are gone from the landscape forever and my head feels full of nonsense and yet empty at the same time. Even my most optimistic friends are struggling.

Then I heard Vera’s song and its rosy line about waiting and seeing made me feel good again. It seems silly to have reversed my mood on a 75 year old song that wasn’t even a part of my generation.  But there you have it…just you wait and see.

The phrase strikes a chord because it’s such an innocent view based on no apparent evidence but that’s what makes it so appealing. There’s a cheerful confidence in the words that transcend today’s hardened reality. It’s almost like a child is saying it to a doubting and bitter old soul. If I could begin to trust its message that things would get better here on earth even if it looks like things may actually get worse.

So what should we do while we are waiting and seeing? That is the question because there is so little we are capable of changing in this incredible moment in time. I guess I will continue to write here about beauty when I encounter it. Currently, I’m immersed in a book so good that it takes my breath away. That’s a hopeful sign. And I continue to see my very gifted grief counselor who told me that a couple she helps that lost their beloved 10 year old son have decided to be happy again because “our son would have wanted that”. She called them “such beautiful people” in a voice so tender and reverential that my eyes instantly stung with tears. It pushed forth a blast of hope inside me that there must be more “beautiful people” in the world that I don’t even know about yet. And I’ll keep looking for them and for their ideals and then I’ll spread them here for you. And of course, you know how I’ll end this post, don’t you?

Just you wait and see.

 

9 Comments

  • Karen

    Thank you for this authentic post. I totally relate. I agree that it’s the little things that support our lives and I’ve been working devotedly on them daily lately. It can be as small as rubbing lotion on my feet or slicking on a coat of nail polish, making homemade teriyaki sauce and GF croutons for dinner with a daughter or going outside for a walk when I just want to cocoon with my book. “Everything changes” is something I tell myself. Your posts are life-sustaining and always remind me to look for the beauty of the lovely inconsequences. May God sustain you in your grief and shower you with many beautiful inconsequential moments.
    xo The other Karen

  • Susan

    I read recently in a British women’s magazine about the state of “languishing,” which it what it feels like I’ve been in, off and on, for a long time. Things aren’t terrible but they aren’t great either, and I just kind of drift from one day to the next. I try to remember that the pandemic taught me that even a blah day is a good day, in that it’s not a bad one, but sometimes I think I need a jump start.

  • Thresia

    I am always excited to find you in my in box. It seems you almost always some how are in my head. When you said that nothing feels interesting and all you relied are gone from the landscape forever is me and yes my head is full but I can’t focus. Please share what book you are reading. And please if only to me how your grief counseling is really helping you or not because not doing so well here.

    • A Lovely Inconsequence

      Hello Thresia, Thank you for your comment. The book I was engrossed in is The Gown by Jennifer Robson. I cannot handle deep dark books right now and this one has the warm good characters I like set after the war in London. My grief counselor supported me recently with a technique to “reframe” sad memories with good things. For example, if a thought occurs to me that is overwelming, I am learning to add details to it that ease my pain. My “frame” changes the way I perceive the event. There is no really good death but when we remember the death, we add the comfort we gave or the fact that the loved one died at home instead of a hospital, or that they were peaceful, etc. I hope that helps a bit. There are a lot of what-if’s when someone we love dies and they can haunt us. Please email me if you like.

  • Karen

    There is something about that song, isn’t there? To be willing, even determined, to look on the bright side when things are gloomy is a challenge, but it’s one the greatest generation lived up to. I love thinking about ways we can turn our attention upward and onward. I think the song is right, we do have to wait and see, and even in the waiting, we are showing our faith in a good God, who is bringing us to a brighter future and a hope.

    • Julie Basile

      Hi Karen
      We met at “thoughtful threads” in naples –
      I loved talking to you and you gave me hope just in your presence.

      I love this story so much. Your writing is comforting. Those words.
      Just you wait and see. We all find a boost in those words.

      Hope you are having a nice summer so far and that I see you again in naples

      Love to you. Julie

  • Tracy

    Your lovely blog is one diversion. Good books (reading an old Maeve Binchy novel), turning off the news,
    walking a few blocks, chatting with neighbor friends. All good stuff.
    Times are very low right now, but we only really truly matter to those directly in our lives.
    Why not look on the sunny side?
    My neighbor is a lady of the Greatest Generation. She’s inspirational.
    It may sound cliche, but she always says “do the best you can “.
    I think we are trying to do that.
    I was watching the movie “As Good as it Gets” the other night.
    Hearing Jack sing “Always look on the bright side of your life ” made me smile.
    Let’s put on our lipstick and get on with it.

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