I am looking forward to Tom coming home, but I have been struggling with the thought of him leaving again.
Part of me wishes I could just put up a wall and not get attached to his being here. Another part of me knows it’s wrong to construct such things. When he’s here, I tend to swing from being super clingy to being distant in my heart because of fear of his leaving. It’s hard to find a balance. Neither extreme is healthy, and both are a nuisance. I get angry with myself over these behaviors. I try my best to enjoy the time I have with him.
It’s hard to be human. I know all the right answers – that God is sovereign, that employment is a good thing, that Tom enjoys his job – so few people do! – and I want him to be happy. Paying bills is a good thing. I know and believe that my happiness shouldn’t be rooted in my husband. I know it could be worse. I know that I’m blessed to at least be able to talk to him while he’s gone – thank God for the Internet. I know that I am blessed to have a husband who is faithful.
Still, it is a struggle. I want to be supportive of his job, yet I want to be together as a family. I want to tell him I miss him, without feeling guilty for distracting him with these words.
Oh for a country house in the city.
This week, Becky was cleaning out Tom’s old room and found a card I had once sent to him that had fallen behind the bookshelf. On the front was the Kim Anderson photo of a little boy standing in front of a train. A little girl had her arms around him and was giving him a kiss. We had a long distance relationship, and only got to see each other on rare occasions. I was getting ready to leave to go back home. Inside, I wrote:
As I was coming here on the train, I was often lost in thought and hoping that you and I would still have “it” : the bond which keeps us together which exists outside of time and circumstances. And, we do! I never doubted its presence, but I had certainly entertained the “what-if’s”. I was so comforted the instant I saw you and I knew were were going to perfectly clique again even after so long…
I guess that I cannot help but think about leaving, and that every minute that I am not here with you is, in my mind, wasted time. I do not want to leave, nor do I ever want it to end…
I have a horrible sinking feeling that it will be a long time until I see you again. And it hurts so bad. This week, I remembered what it was like to genuinely laugh and smile. My heart was weightless and I was in love with you, and not just a memory of you…
I cannot exist as myself, the “me” that I want to be, without you. I belong with you, and I am lost everywhere else
Well, it’s good to see that nothing has changed.
Great. Another thunderstorm. Insane thunderstorm, neighborhood fireworks for two hours straight, idiots blasting stereos while racing down our street, and now another storm. I think I have put the kids in bed about ten times tonight. No lie. There goes Thomas… and Aiden… looks like we’re going for bedtime #11.
Last year, while Tom was gone, the roof was being redone, and I wasn’t feeling great from being pregnant with Micah and the kids were going through some sort of illness. I asked Mary Judge, my dear friend whose husband was in Iraq for a year, why it is that all these difficulties happen while husbands are away. She said, “it distracts us from missing them, and gives us something to do while they’re gone.”