I’ve been thinking a lot about patience, and how I need more of it. As I make this journey as a member of the Sandwich Generation, I’m realizing that patience is no longer an option in my life. It has become as fundamental as eating and exercise.

The dictionary defines patience as the following: “the quality of being patient, as the bearing of provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain without complaint, loss of temper, irritation or the like.” Or as physicist Isaac Newton wrote a few centuries ago: “If I have ever made any valuable discoveries, it has been owing more to patient attention, than to any other talent.” 

I’m learning that juggling my responses to the personalities of a 14-year-old daughter and a nearly 80-year old mother require far more than calmness and perseverance in aggravating situations. I also have to rely on a mix of compassion, thoughtfulness and prayer. 

My Mom recently resisted the notion of having a relatively routine medical procedure and it was hard for me at first to understand why. So I had to let the issue drop until I figured out she was reacting out of fear, not of the test but of the possible results. When I talked about it with her later, I had to approach her with a patience tinged with compassion and empathy. 

Now, with a 14-year-old, I really do have to count to 10 sometimes, taking long, deep breaths in the process. But I’m thinking more about my own adolescent turmoil as I respond to her sometimes-difficult behavior. Do I sometimes yell? Of course. But I’m also trying to figure out the motivation for her actions and responding with thoughtfulness and honesty. 

I’m devoted to practicing the art of patience, not only in how I deal with others but with myself. What about you?

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