Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

Home

Never laugh alone

Day 12. I love Thursdays. Best night of TV in the whole week. I’m usually guaranteed at least one good out loud laugh from the NBC lineup of shows. No matter what else happens on Thursdays, I know I’ll have a time of rest and refreshing after Isabelle goes to bed.

Watching our Thursday shows without my husband just isn’t the same. My parents don’t laugh at the same things I do. Maybe it’s a generation thing. Or a sense of humor thing. There’s something about laughing with other people. I’m not a drinker, but there’s an adage about never drinking alone. The same rule should apply to laughing.

I just don’t know what to do with myself

Day 11. I forget how unscheduled we are without Phil. Even though he’s not terribly organized, our days revolve around him. On the days he has class, I have small windows of opportunity to do housework. When he works, I know I don’t have to plan anything special for supper, unless I’m really bored with eating leftovers and want to give Isabelle and myself a treat. I can’t say I miss finals week, though. Usually even when he’s in the house, he’s inaccessible because of needing to work on projects or papers.

The days without him are passing fast enough … sometimes too fast … with visits to friends and family, and opportunities like we had this morning to go to a moms’ Bible study at church. Still, I don’t know exactly what to do with the days. I don’t have the usual amount of errands, cooking, dishes and laundry to deal with, so I find myself looking for things to do. This morning, that meant spending money. Can’t afford to do that every day.

I’m a doer, so maybe this is a chance to learn to “be” more. With summer coming, and the probability that my husband won’t have any classes, just work, maybe this is an early adjustment for that transition.

As it is, I can’t believe we’re halfway through our separation. We always run out of time to visit those we love, and I can already sense the days slipping away. Better make the most of them while we have them.

The ghosts of birthdays past

Day 10. The time apart seems to be going faster now. When I told someone my husband’s last class of the semester was next week, it seemed odd to think we were that close to seeing him again.

Today’s my birthday. It’s not unusual in our dating and married life to be apart on my birthday. Past birthdays in our five-year relationship have found us in separate cities and on different continents. Different time zone? No big deal. Even the one year we were together we couldn’t celebrate too much because it was finals week.

For the duration of his seminary studies, I don’t expect to have much birthday on the actual day. The curse of a spring birthday, I guess. At least this year I was able to celebrate with the rest of the family. We enjoyed a day of fun and togetherness. Past years, in my husband’s absence, I’ve spent the day in no special way, having an Eeyore kind of “just another day” day.

My husband always makes it up to me, though. Even if it’s June before we get around to celebrating. In my husband’s family, the birthday tradition is that the birthday boy or girl gets to choose their meals for the entire today. So, I have a few weeks to plan a delectable meal prepared by my husband, one of only a couple of times a year I get to be meal pampered.

I’m remembering bits and pieces of other birthdays today. Like the surprise party my friends threw for me in my own house. Bowling note=great decoy. I almost peed my pants when they yelled, “Surprise!” Or the year I turned 17 and my friends and I challenged ourselves to see how much Mountain Dew we could drink. Final count: a lot.

I joke sometimes about being old and getting older — my stylist found my first gray hair on my head today; great birthday gift, huh? — but really I’m grateful, at 32, to have had 32 birthdays, to have 2 great kids and a wonderful husband. There was a time in my life where I was convinced I wouldn’t live longer than 25 and I couldn’t imagine life with a husband or kids.

Blessed, so blessed.

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4

Inexpressible joy

Day 9. I’m having one of those can’t-wipe-the-smile-off-my-face days. I am practically bursting. I want to sing, shout, dance, and fall flat down on my face in praise to God for His goodness. He’s done something only He could have done, and I am amazed and humbled. And a little bit ashamed that I’m amazed because He is able to do so much more than I can dream or imagine.

And I’m struggling to find the words to tell my husband about it, to explain what is happening, what has happened. And I’m afraid that he won’t share this joy because he didn’t experience the circumstances that brought it about or he won’t understand what I’m feeling.

This is sort of role reversal for us, and I think this is another way God is shaping, or reshaping, our relationship through separation. I can’t  name any specific times, but I know I’ve been on the other end of this kind of joy, unable to understand and maybe a little jealous of it.

Rejoice with those who rejoice, the Bible says. Oh, how I want my husband here to rejoice with me in person. A phone call will have to cut it for now.

Settling in

Day 8. It doesn’t seem so weird to be without him. We’ve experienced a full week without husband and daddy, and my confidence in being able to function without him is growing.

Today, I miss him just for him, not for any particular reason. I noticed his absence most in church. When we’re in Pennsylvania, we’re rarely in church together because of his work schedule and then when we are, we’re each with a handful of child. When we’re back home and in church together, we sometimes actually get to sit next to each other and most of the time, my husband will put his arm around me.

Call me sentimental or old-fashioned, but there’s just something about that gesture that makes my heart beat a little faster.

Authority and the inner drill sergeant

Day 7. After a morning of garage sale shopping where we scored a play kitchen, a foot-propelled toy car, a couple of bags of clothes and a steal-of-a-deal on the cutest little girl kilt and cape I’ve ever seen, let’s just say the 2-year-old was not the sweetest little girl on the block.

She has started to give me this scrunchy nose, snickery, whiny type of look that her father sometimes uses to indicate he’s joking about something and I’m taking him too seriously. Hers is pure whine and it’s most often seen when she’s not getting her way and thinks she should be. In the world of a 2-year-old, that seems to be all the time.

I’m having to practice my lower-tone-I’m-serious voice — the one the Supernanny is always telling parents to use to demonstrate authority. I’m working on it.

Of the two of us, I’m definitely the softer one when it comes to discipline, authority and correction. If I’m tired, or the baby needs me, or I don’t think it’s going to be a big deal, I let Isabelle get away with just about anything. My husband, while not a strict disciplinarian either, by his very presence commands more obedience and respect. He also has a drill-sergeant voice. Thank you, U.S. Army.

Right now, I feel like I have to be the strict one because if not me, then who? The grandparents? Not likely. Why is it grandparents let their grandkids get away with all kinds of stuff their kids never could have?

So, I’m learning to say, “No.” And stick to my guns. Even if it means hearing more whining, seeing more of the Scrunch, as I think I’ll call it, and accepting that Isabelle is going to run to someone else to see if she can get a second opinion.

She’ll thank me for this, later, right?

Togetherness

Day 6. Most weeks, Fridays are family days. Phil’s done with classes for the week and has fewer obligations during the day, so to “celebrate” another week passed, we tend to spend the day together until he has to go to work that night.

Today, the kids and I spent the day together but mostly indoors because I’m still not 100 percent over this flu bug, whatever it is. My MIL did come to the rescue, though, for part of the morning, and took Isabelle outside to play while it was still nice.

I know a week isn’t a long time, and we’ve been sick for most of the week, but I feel like my husband is missing out. With his school and work schedule, he’s able to be around the kids often during the day, so he sees a lot of their everyday behavior and changes. I feel like we’re making memories without him, even if we’re not doing anything monumental.

A few days ago, I walked through Amboy, the town where much of our courtship took place, and even though it’s been more than three years, the memories of those days came flooding back. I remembered walks we’d taken together, and trips to the pharmacy to have a Green River float from the soda fountain there. It was like no time had passed at all.

I have great memories of our dating years, but in the midst of our present life, they’ve slipped to the back, only to be brought to the front by a return to the scene. In the coming weeks, the kids and I are going to have lots of experiences my husband won’t be able to share with us, and although I know this is the way life has to be right now, I’m not exactly happy about it.

My husband spent a year in Iraq, before we were married, and I felt like my life was on hold. I tried to do more than just work and sleep, but at times I felt guilty for doing things without him. I didn’t eat out much or see many movies. I do not envy the families who have to endure this day in, day out, for a year or more.

So, I will count my blessings and try not to feel guilty if we have fun without him. And I’ll pray for many, many memories to come.

Expectation

Day 5. The days seem longer while we’re apart. Without him, I feel like I have less to look forward to. Most days, when we’re all in the same state, no matter what happens, I still have the hope of seeing my husband and spending time with him at the end of the day. Even if we’re just watching TV together, much of what gets me through the day is this expectation of seeing him at the end of the day.

It’s like my reward at the end of the day. And I’m a little lost without it.

Comfort

Day 4. So, this post is a day late because it was my turn to be sick yesterday, and I was out of commission most of the day into the night. Still not 100%. Hoping it passes soon so we can get on with enjoying our time with family. Puking and lying around on the couch aren’t necessarily my idea of quality time.

Needless to say, I’ve been on the phone to my husband three or four times a day to give him health updates. He told someone yesterday that he wished there was technology to allow you to reach through the computer and give comforting touches. He said this in reference to our daughter, I’m sure, but I could definitely have used one of those yesterday.

Phone and Skype just aren’t the same, but they are better than nothing.

Looking forward to a long embrace.

No fear

Day 3. Our 2-year-old puked most of today. Fortunately for me, I was with the in-laws, so I didn’t have to deal with it alone. I called my husband twice. He’s a fearless puke-cleaner-upper, and in the face of unknown medical issues, he’s the non-worrier, or at least, he doesn’t show it to me. I needed his strength today. But maybe that’s why this happened when he wasn’t around. Maybe I need to rely on God more, and have confidence that I don’t have to have my husband here.

Oh, and I conquered my fear of being puked on, so I feel like I’ve taken another step on the mom journey.