Waiting

The amount of satisfaction you get from life depends largely on your own ingenuity, self-sufficiency and resourcefulness.  People who wait around for life to supply their satifaction usually find boredom instead.                         Dr. William Menniger

At the rehearsal dinner prior to our son and daughter-in-law's wedding in 2002

Most of my marriage I have been in the semi unique position of waiting. Waiting for Mr. G to arrive home, waiting for the week end when he would return. I'm not prone to feeling sorry for myself and I was the last little girl at girl scout camp to be home sick so this waiting was truly not as bad as it sounds. Technically if it was exactly half it would be 22 years that I was waiting, it's been less than half of the marriage only 20 years. However, technicalities aside, I have been waiting a long time for him to be at home with me. 

It all started they way these separations usually do, for a job. Lo those twenty years ago at my encouragement, Mr. G applied for and successfully got a job at the state level. Prestigious. Even though he got this job at my suggestion and encouragement, when he actually started to pack up I said to him: "you bastard you're leaving me." I am not always the pinnacle of rationality. The thought of his working away from home loomed large and I was fearful of all kinds of things: that he'd get hurt in the commute, that he'd find a greater world out there than the small one we had here and want to make the time away permanent, that there were gloriously beautiful other women and he'd stray, and all of the other crazy things that I could stuff into my brain. I had truly mastered the art of worrying and that occupied me for the first several weeks. So, he worked in another city and came home only for the week ends. Then I got to like being by myself.

I'm sure I mentioned in previous posts that I am one of six kids. When I went to college I alway had a roommate or five. We got married right out of college and so started our life as two soon to be joined two years later by the first son and two years after that the second son. I'd always wanted a houseful of kids, at least four, but it was not meant to be. Our home was filled with kids and their friends and their parents and my siblings visiting. I treasured all of it, the jumble of people and personalities. Then, whamo things drastically changed in 1992.

Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections, but instantly set about remedying them---every day begin the task anew.                                    St. Francis de Sales

In 1992 it didn't help that my oldest son had graduated from college and my younger son wasn't coming home for the summer. I was completely alone for the first time in my life. For this shock of the new, I acquired a new kitten, Leo who though darling and funny wasn't exactly heaven for my old faithful cat Mr. Boo. After patiently coaxing them, Boo adjusted. So too did I adjust to my semi single existence. Gradually I learned to relish my time alone and as opposed to feeling lonely I eventually I felt filled with possiblites. The creativity started with painting. Don't think in terms of fine art, no, not fine art.  I repainted one wall in each room a different color, then I elaborated on that. One wall in the kitchen was a modern art snow storm, another wall faux marble poor done but pleasing to my eye [see the post on Kitchen].
What had been an off white house became a more colorful home.

Granted I had to make do and started to go everywhere in our small town by myself: lectures, movies, pot lucks, writing group, hiking and biking. I thrived in waking alone during the week and I'd make a pot of tea, bring it up to my bed, call my Mom [sigh, I still miss her] and maybe even read a magazine. The house was always tidy because there was just me to tend to. All this definitely had its benefits despite the truth of missing my husband and wishing we lived together.

I think we did an excellent job of staying as close as a couple can while living sixty miles apart. We were on the phone every night while apart and sometimes talked several times a day  just checking in with each other. Our conversations could be mundane, "so, what did you have for dinner?" but we also had a chance to debrief, to talk about family news or even politics, books, movies, our work and, of course, our plans for the week end. Then when he did come home it was always celebratory. Almost always there was a fine meal to greet him and some time to relish being in each other's company.

Of course there is down side. Because of our bifricated life we were soon nearly forgotten about as a couple and the invitations for dinners with friends dwindled down to a few friends. This happens all the time to the suddenly single through divorce or death and to a small extent it happened to us too. The up side was he was so happy in his job and I love mine and didn't want to move.

I asked one old friend of mine who's wife retired after years of them doing the same thing we did, "what's it like now that she's home all the time?" He said after a pause, "well, Fridays aren't as exciting but overall it's great." That's what I expect for us.

When people hear that my husband is retiring and coming to live full time at home they kiddingly say, "oh, what are you going to do with each other..." as if we were so clueless we hadn't thought of this possibility of being together all the time. For one thing, and this should be obvious, I like him as well as love him. We love being together and now I will have a pal to do things with. I am going to be working part time in our guest house and he, well see, I have this list...

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