Identities
I’ve grown comfortably accustomed to my husband working out of town. Would I rather have him working locally? Of course. But we both realize sometimes sacrifices must be made in order to earn a living. We’ve been blessed in more ways than I can begin to count, this would include us both having successful careers as well as remaining gainfully employed.
For a while now, I’ve felt like my one life has been split into two different realms of existence. I don’t know quite how to describe this feeling; it’s just weird. I really had gotten used to these different realms – because at the end of every week, my husband would be back home. Each week I would morph from my single-life-working-girl realm back into my ‘whole’ realm which includes my husband on the weekends. Oh how I cherish the whole realm… I anticipate it’s arrival the entire week.
Last month Keith was given notice that his new job site was not only much further from home, but also mandated overtime hours – meaning no more coming home time for a good while. It’s so strange. Now I can see these two familiar realms being transformed into a new third existence. An existence where I just… am. Literally, I’m just there. Not sure what to really do. Yeah, it’s pretty tough to explain, obviously.
I miss him. Badly.
I do realize he could be deployed overseas for many months at a time. I am grateful that’s not the case. While I don’t whine out loud much about the situation (doesn’t do any good and no one really wants to hear about it anyway), I can and will write about it. That much at least helps.
I’m not afraid, quite the contrary. It’s the loneliness factor that comes into play… that empty hole feeling inside my gut. This is in addition to feeling like I’m thrown into this third identity. It’s not the same as living alone as I’ve done in the past. It’s quite different than living alone, because I actually know what I’m missing… and, what we both are missing out on.
Bridge Over Troubled Water
I was talking to my mother last night, and the topic of worry came up. After some discussion as to some things that were bothering me, she asked ‘Where does it get you, really? And what does it accomplish?’ I had no answer.
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I know prayer is the main key when you’re feeling overwhelmed, but I confess it doesn’t always quell the worry inside me. Of course all a person has to do when they feel the weight of the world on their shoulders is look around – for there’s always someone very near who has it a lot worse. It’s not that it makes you feel better – just lets you know that you’re not alone, and that perhaps what you have going on pales in comparison to theirs.
Worry can come from a variety of things. Too many bills, not enough money. A sick relative. Being unemployed. Health problems of your own. Drug or alcohol addiction of yourself or a loved one. Being bullied at school. Being bullied at work. A variety of these or other things can be a constant source of a knotting stomach and intense worry, as well as a variety of other emotions.
A long time ago, when I was just a kid, I found this religious tract somewhere that stated something along the lines of “Why Worry?? Don’t be a smudgepot!!” What was the meaning of this? I have no earthly idea other than saying not to worry, that we should let God handle things in His way. I remember my Mother and Grandmother seemed so impressed that I’d hit on such an integral subject at what appeared to be a much-needed time. I often think about that tract, and wish that I had it now so that I may fully absorb it’s contents. Something tells me the value within it’s pages was priceless.
Life of Bon 
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