It�s interesting what stress brings out in people. Last night, faced with the knowledge that he had to be out of bed at 4:30 a.m. to go to the airport for his flight to Dallas, P was wired. We both knew he wouldn�t sleep much, but I hoped he would at least try. We got his clothes and things together (mostly), and packed his suitcase. At the time he was wearing his favorite t-shirt and shorts, and wanted to take them with him, so in the middle of the living room he stripped off his clothes so I could throw in one last load of laundry. From there he bustled around, making a list of what he needed to take, asking questions of me I wasn�t meant to actually answer. Like, �Did I pack my dress shoes? Where is my cell phone battery charger? Which books should I take to read on the airplane? Food. I�ll need snacks. They don�t feed passengers anymore. Where is my book light? Did I remember to get cash? What time should we leave in the morning? And why am I naked?� To that last one I had to laugh, because he had indeed forgotten that he was running around totally in the buff.
I�m not sure what time he actually came to bed. I climbed the stairs at around 10:30, and I know he came up much later than that. We were both bleary eyed in the morning, but we managed to get him to the airport on time. I already miss him.
He called a little while ago to say he made it safely, his first stop had been to his parents� house, and that his mom already looked dead. He said she was in her bed, with her eyes closed, and non-communicative. The hospice nurses had just arrived and ushered out all of her many children. He was headed to his friend�s house, where he is staying, and so very glad to be staying there too. He has someplace to escape to.
This is going to be a long, hard weekend for him. And it was 101 degrees in Dallas when he called.
He sounded apologetic for calling �so late.� He knows how B and I like to go to bed early, but he wanted to catch us before we did. I didn�t know what he was talking about. �Hon, it�s only 5:30 here.� He knew there was a 2 hour time difference between Dallas and Seattle, but he calculated it the wrong way. His words: �I�m totally discombulated.�
B and I are a little discombobulated ourselves. It�s odd without P here. But we�re fine. Tomorrow we�re going swimming, and who knows what else we�ll get up to. Maybe nothing, like today. And that will be fine with me. Tonight we�re going to share a Claim Jumper Turkey Pot Pie for dinner, and take a run to the convenience store for rootbeer and maybe something pastry-ish for the morning. I do not feel inclined to cook when P is not here.
In fact, when P is not here, I find it hard to feel inclined to do anything at all. I know some people relish their alone time, when their spouses or significant others journey away for a few days. Something about renewal and refreshment and whatnot. Not me. I just feel like half of me is somewhere else. And I think B feels it too. All day long she has been saying she wants to see Daddy. Wants to talk to him. If he were here, downstairs in his �bunker,� she�d happily go about her business with that simple knowledge. But since he�s not here, we are both feeling his absence very strongly. We are both in love with the same man.
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