Expectations

Some years ago, lost in a backup file of my blog which I have no idea how to restore to my archives, I wrote of spice cake and Harrison Ford. He must have been coming out with a new film, in which he must have been playing a cowboy, and a photo of him must have reminded me of my Grandpa Rex. I didn’t have any photos of my Grandpa at the time, but I pulled this out of a drawer the other day and here it is.

Grandpa Rex

One of my brothers tells of the hot-faced, heart-racing dread panic he would feel when on the ranch Grandpa would tell him to go into the barn and fetch some tool or another. My brother would have no idea what said tool looked like or where to find it, but there was no doubt or question in the request. Simply an expectation that the job would be done.

I remember that feeling of panic. I felt it myself a number of times as a kid. But it’s come back to me in full force twice this past couple of weeks at work. I’ve been assigned tasks, which, even as I listen to what is required, I know I lack the knowledge or resources to accomplish. There is no doubt or question in the request. Simply an expectation that the job will be done.

Like so many other uncomfortable–even painful–moments inherent in childhood, this one is worse as an adult. No one to have your back. No one else to go fetch/do it themselves if you fail or don’t deliver.

And so I pray for a miracle.

And, probably like my grandpa would have done, roll up my sleeves and get to work.

2 thoughts on “Expectations

  1. Thank you Melody. And likewise, you know. My Grandpa Rex was a quiet, hardworking, self-sacrificing cattle rancher. But to me he will always be the great American cowboy.

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