Right now I’m drinking a Sapporo in the little sushi place by my mom’s house. I don’t even know what it’s called. It’s the second place I’ve tried tonight, on my way home from the airport. I wanted to go to the place that you, me and Cory went to, kind of north of here at The Orchard….the Happy Sumo or Laughing Buddha or whatever it was. But they closed at 9 (I guess I should know the name since I just went there). I barely made it here; this place closes at 9:30. I stumbled in at 9:15 and you know how I hate doing that. Still, I wanted sushi more than I cared about being rude to the servers so I made myself feel better by rattling off my order quickly and promising I wouldn’t hang out too long.
The truth is that I want to get home to see the girls, but I was starving! That time change from the east coast to here is a killer coming this way. I ate lunch at noon DC time and then all of a sudden its 9:30 and I’m in Denver… 11:30 DC time. My mom and sister and the girls went on a picnic so there wasn’t any food at the house. I called home and they were ok with me stopping. My mom said she’d get the girls cleaned up and in their nighties. Perfect.
I’m going to make a concerted effort to be with them this weekend. I’ve had 12 straight days of work in some fashion or form and I can see the toll it’s taking on them. They’ve been sleeping with me at night and even though it’s been uncomfortable…it’s been right and has felt good. Grandma has been keeping them busy…play dough, museum, zoo, picnics…all that. I asked her yesterday if she’s starting to tire out. Of course she’d never say yes, but I actually believe her. She’s already getting a little antsy looking at the time running out. She said to me “I can’t believe I only have two weeks left…”
But I think about the two weeks and it feels like a lifetime. I can’t tell you how many times I have felt lucky this week. It’s strange, too, because what always precedes that is a feeling of extreme desolation. I’ll be driving along and pull my phone out only to realize I can’t call you. I’ll roll over, half-asleep and think you’re next to me then realize you aren’t there. You’re not even close.
There have been moments when I’ve teased myself with thoughts of catastrophe, pretending we’re divorced or that I’ve lost you to a disaster. I try and let it go on as long as I can but it’s a crushing feeling. I can only take it for a minute or so before needing to remind myself that everything is good. Everything is perfect, actually. And sometimes there is the opposite. There are these times where I am thinking and feeling good about everything we have and then get suddenly shell shocked by a wave of anxiety thinking, when is the next crisis going to hit? This morning I had a dream that the kids were pried away from us and taken away in Mexico. Not fun.
I want to call you. The video calls have been nice, but they lack flexibility. Rather than call when I am in the mood to talk, we have to get into the mood when the opportunity is there. It’s still better I guess. Seeing and talking to you is better than just talking to you. I just wish it could happen more often.
You need to know how proud I am of you for what you are doing. I know it’s not easy for you to be away from the girls and from me. Aside from that, I know how intimidating it is to be in a place where you don’t know the language or the currency. Then, to be in a position of authority with people looking to you for direction and expertise… Whether this is an experience or a transition…it’s right for you. I meant what I said in Ohio when I was talking about your narrative. You’re writing the perfect story for yourself. Things are in place in your life and I am proud that you are my wife.
We have a good life. There aren’t a lot of people that I know that get to live life the way we do, that love their kids and each other and have as many opportunities as we have. We’ve made so many good decisions. The best one was to bed down together and do the rest of this life thing as a couple.
I miss you so much!