Oh Dear, What Can the Matter Be?

I had another post planned, but in light of events the past week, I decided to go with this one instead.

Oh, dear! What can the matter be?
Dear, dear! What can the matter be?
Oh, dear! What can the matter be?
Johnny's so long at the fair.
He promised to buy me a trinket to please me
And then for a smile, oh, he vowed he would tease me
He promised to buy me a bunch of blue ribbons
To tie up my bonnie brown hair.

Oh, dear! What can the matter be?
Dear, dear! What can the matter be?
Oh, dear! What can the matter be?
Johnny's so long at the fair.
He promised to bring me a basket of posies
A garland of lilies, a gift of red roses
A little straw hat to set off the blue ribbons
That tie up my bonnie brown hair.

Oh, dear! What can the matter be?
Oh, dear! What can the matter be?
Oh, dear! What can the matter be?
Johnny's so long at the fair.

Did you ever wonder what happened to Johnny? Had he been hurt? Was he safe? Did he just loose track of time? Did he run off with someone named Sally? Where was he? Why was he so long at the fair?

In our world of constant contact, we have an excruisiately difficult time waiting for news. If we want to know something, we pull out our cell phone and call or text. Or we send an email or instant message. We hardly wait for anything. Ever.

I remember standing at the window in Houston one December 24th early in the 1990's waiting for Tad to come home from Christmas shopping. He was out buying presents for me. He had been gone for hours. It was just before cell phones were really widely used by the public, so I had no way to contact him. I stood and wondered where he was and if he was okay. He eventually came home (with some nice presents), and all was fine.

It wasn't the only time that happened.

In the early years, I would look out the window and wonder when he would return. I'd think about what I would do if he didn't return. Did I/he have enough life insurance? Did I know how to get to the savings and retirement accounts? Who could be a friend to lean on for help dealing with the grief?

Once I finally knew all of the answers to these questions, I spent less time at the window. I also spent less time, the more often he returned. My experience became that he always came back, eventually.

Just in the last year or two someone asked if I had heard from him on a hiking trip. I replied, "No, but I haven't heard from the Search and Rescue or the Sheriff's Department either, so I'm not worrying."

That is mostly the truth. I am not actively worrying and waiting at the window. Yet, I still have a little part of my heart and mind silently singing the song, "Oh Dear, What Can the Matter Be?"



This past week, I, like the rest of the nation, felt grief and horror over the brutality and inhumanity of the Boston Marathon Bombing. I saw messages from my friends going out to their friends and family in the Boston area. I recognized their worry over the safety of their family and friends who were unaccounted for.

Friday morning on Facebook, I read as a good friend worried about the safety of her father who had left for work at MIT before the lock down was instituted. He turned up busy working and even drove to the airport and left town for a business trip, but until she knew, she worried about her father who was possibly in harms way.

Fortunately he was fine, but not every "Johnny" returned home last week in Boston, nor did they in Waco or many other places throughout the world. For grieving the families of those innocent victims who spent hours worrying before receiving the devastating news, my heart cries.