Wednesday, May 20, 2009
periodic absence, again.
things i do when my husband is gone:
1. eat veggie corndogs for dinner two evenings in a row.
2. sleep flat. i really didn't realize that he makes a BIG dent in the bed, so i'm always sleeping on something of a slant. i woke up this morning feeling amazing. flat!
3. put stuff away without thinking about whether *he* should put it away. and then it stays put away.
4. not enjoy star trek.
5. notice the quiet.
6. wonder when the magic robot will appear to take the garbage and the recycling out.
7. miss him.
he said today, while in kentucky dealing with the impending loss of his dad, that he loves me in a whole new way. i know what he means; as awful as this is--and don't think i don't occasionally feel guilty for being intensely relieved that it is not, at this juncture, my parent who's dying--it's one of the biggest things you help someone through. there's a bond being forged that wasn't there before, as tied up with each other as we are. i'm a little in awe of it.
1. eat veggie corndogs for dinner two evenings in a row.
2. sleep flat. i really didn't realize that he makes a BIG dent in the bed, so i'm always sleeping on something of a slant. i woke up this morning feeling amazing. flat!
3. put stuff away without thinking about whether *he* should put it away. and then it stays put away.
4. not enjoy star trek.
5. notice the quiet.
6. wonder when the magic robot will appear to take the garbage and the recycling out.
7. miss him.
he said today, while in kentucky dealing with the impending loss of his dad, that he loves me in a whole new way. i know what he means; as awful as this is--and don't think i don't occasionally feel guilty for being intensely relieved that it is not, at this juncture, my parent who's dying--it's one of the biggest things you help someone through. there's a bond being forged that wasn't there before, as tied up with each other as we are. i'm a little in awe of it.
