A month alone
Friday, June 04, 2010
My husband left a couple of days ago to visit his family in North Dakota. His mother--who is in her 80's--is in the hospital with pneumonia and had a heart attack, so the husband has no idea how long he'll be gone but figures on about a month or so. It all depends on what happens while he's back there.
I'm certainly not afraid to stay by myself--after all, I have a half-deaf, 12 year old, seven-pound pomeranian to protect me--but I didn't think that I'd be lonesome this fast, either. After all these years, even though he drives me up a wall half the time, I've become accustomed to having him around.
We read the paper and drink coffee in the mornings and discuss the news. (Luckily, we both have the same political leanings or else there might be an early morning spousicide in our household.) He constantly reminds me to take my vitamins and usually mows the lawn.
He makes me tea in the evening and he always gives the dog her pills. He never puts anything away once he's used it but I'm even a bit nostalgic for his stuff piled on the dining room table. Sigh.
Life alone has its good points--I can have dinner anytime I want and don't have to worry that he doesn't like spinach with dinner--but I don't think that I'd like to become accustomed to it.