Tag: 051

051 // I Got This

We’ve had many warm days these past few weeks, and in typical Colorado fashion, we’ve had some of the coldest and snowiest yet too. Today is one of the many warm ones, but it feels like the first to carry a genuine sense of spring in the air. It’s the first where the warmth did more than comfort. Today’s sun has me up, moving, and motivated.

The usual Sunday chores are underway, but at a much more relaxed pace than usual. The holiday tomorrow means I don’t have to worry about work, and more than that, I took Tuesday off too. All my anxieties are days away, leaving me with a rare Sunday of peace and contentment. A Sunday that belongs fully to me, to right now.

There will be plenty of time for me. My wife is getting through the last of her Covid-19 quarantine and with her stuck in the bedroom and me stuck out here, there isn’t much more I want to do than think, write, and read.

We are grateful that her symptoms are mild, that we have good jobs that offer paid time off, and that I am able, finally, to do more for us than I ever could before. I am well. I have been working on my driving anxiety, and I am happy to take care of her for a change.

I’ve spent almost all my adult life feeling like half a person and a less than adequate partner. It’s refreshing to see the proof of how much I have grown and to see the relief in someone’s eyes when they know they can count on me—that I got this!

Our weekend trip had to be canceled, and I have been on the couch for much of the week, but it’s all okay. Yeah, I’m bored and lonely, and a little worried, but somehow it really wasn’t a terrible weekend at all. I’m looking forward to making up the time together. I’m looking forward to my own bed and sharing responsibilities again. I’m looking forward to knowing, not just hoping, that she will be okay.

051//366

Today was hard, emotionally. I’m working with a new employee who’s spouse suddenly died less than two weeks ago. She had only been here for 3 days before he passed and then stopped returning to work saying only that she was (quite understandably) having trouble coping with the loss.

I thought she would not be able to return at all but she called and asked if it was possible to continue her training and since my last class has already been released I had the time and agreed. When she walked in this morning I hardly recognized her as the same person I met two weeks ago. She has lost weight and her eyes—my god her eyes—they looked as though she were lost or still in shock. She’s seems present, but appears to have lost the ability to connect meaningfully with her surroundings.

I feel so bad for her, and at the same time, I’m terrified of her. I’m terrified that her reality could some day be mine and those eyes would be my eyes. All day I longed to be near my wife and I promised myself to spend a little more time holding her, looking at her, kissing her, and making sure she knows I love her in case one day it’s her struggling to cope with the loss of me.