The last time

I took Himself to the airport from which he departed an hour ago we were not yet married and he was getting a shuttle flight to a larger airport for the flight that would take him to his side of the pond. He was still a student, still wretchedly skinny and didn’t have a dime to his name. Nineteen years I make it.

This time? Plump Kitten (he’s not yet a Fat Cat) with more degrees and qualifications than will fit on one line of a business card, a little thicker in the waist and dimes are no longer a problem. Knowing that we’ll meet in San Francisco in a week (and he is sensible enough not to gamble our life savings/the house this week in Vegas, though I can’t say that about the boys who will arrive from the Homeland a half hour after his flight is due into LAS) is small consolation but it’s what I got tonight. I did tuck a note in his case detailing our first day back together: if it doesn’t make him spend all his time missing me then I might as well give up the idea of studying creative writing at a post grad level next year.

It is, frankly, WEIRD to be here when we are apart and even though it has only been a few hours a good part of my brain has gone back to pre-married mode. ‘I shouldn’t be here without him’ says the heart, to which the brain replies ‘How is this any different when he is away in (fill in the blank) and you  are at your house?’

The heart has no answer. Dumb heart. I’m not lonely since my parents and brother seemed determined to be around me (and considering they too are all introverts this is weird on so many levels) and I have plenty to do this week; nonetheless, it is going to take a day or so to adjust to this ‘husband lag’.

Last Sunday I was carving pumpkins for the farm display, despite the fact the farm is now closed for the season due to a tiny crop as a result of a May freeze this year. Himself and Little Bro were at their annual NFL game so these and many others were waiting for them on their late return.  I did not beat my record of 37 but if we had got here a day earlier I might have!


About iwom

American by birth, Irish by heritage, Scottish by marriage. Housewife.
This entry was posted in Expat musings. Bookmark the permalink.