Reflections as I Plan to Live (Once Again) With My Husband: Part 1

We've (nearly) done it! After nine months (nine months!) of living in different states, different zip codes, and different time zones, my husband and I are only a couple of weeks away from being reunited permanently. In the same state, zip code, time zone, and the very same home! We will once again get to fall asleep together, wake up together, cook dinners together, and go through daily life together each and every day. Praise the Lord.

For those of you who don't know the reasons behind this temporary arrangement, see this November post.

As I look forward to this joyous reunion, I'm thinking about all the craziness, reflection, difficulty, and joy that has come for both of us this year because of our time apart. It's been hard, for sure. In honor of the nine months, I'm going to reflect on nine things in each of these categories over the next few days. First, the crazy:

Nine Forms of Craziness in a Year of Geographical Separation:

1.  Travel. Ah, travel. In our flights from Philadelphia to Nashville (and Philly/Nashville to Chicago and L.A.) we've gotten delayed, canceled, bumped, lied to (thanks, United), given seats in first class, and gotten snowed in for a whole day. We drove to the Nashville airport once during the storm of the century and passed at least a dozen cars in the ditch. We've become road-and-air warriors, patient airport waiters, and experts at packing for a 2-3 day visit. I now have proper toiletries, including mousse, in two states. I've fallen asleep on the shoulders of strangers (sorry, guy on Southwest flight to Nashville in December...), made new friends because of airport-suffering solidarity (I had to talk some guy down after finding out it was his third - THIRD! - day stuck at O'Hare. He was about to snap...), watched some really dumb movies that I wouldn't normally watch, and read that stupid in-flight catalogue at least a dozen times. Speaking of which, my remote-controlled tarantula and automatic litter box should be arriving soon...

2. Scheduling. Ah, scheduling. iCal has saved our lives and our sanity many a time. We synched our respective calendars early on in the fall to avoid the dreaded "Where-is-my-spouse?" at an odd hour of the day.

But even with the help of iCal, scheduling can sometimes be tricky. Recently Daryl flew out for Easter and then to see me in the play a week later. We usually see each other every 2-3 weeks, so this presented a dilemma. Do we see each other again during the finals season, or wait 3 1/2 weeks before reuniting again? After three weeks I start to feel less like a wife and more like a best friend/therapist who talks to the same guy on the phone every day. We've learned it's best not to go that long. Still, visiting during finals season isn't fun for either of us. "I've missed you, sweetie! Now I'm going to write a paper, so be quiet."

In the end I landed a CPE interview for the following week, so I'll be trekking to Nashville anyway. But still, the scheduling gets ridiculous at points. And crazy.

3. Phone troubles. One evening around 7pm I had great intentions to read my Bible for awhile. I was also ridiculously exhausted from a long day of class and work. I turned off my phone (just for a few moments, you know, so that Jesus wouldn't be interrupted), opened the Bible, and promptly fell asleep. For three hours. I was awakened to my friends Sam and Brandi pounding on my door. I groggily went over and opened it, thinking I had just drifted off for a moment or two. The following dialogue ensued:

Brandi: "Hi, Courtney. Um... here's your dish back that we borrowed."
Me: (sleepily) "Yeah, sure. No problem." Starting to  close the door...
Sam: "And, um... can you call your husband?"
Me: (a bit incredulously) "Seriously? He  called you? He can be a bit of a worrier sometimes. I just turned my phone off to read my Bible for a minute..."
Brandi: "Oh, okay. He just called us because he was worried."
Me: "Seriously? I just turned the phone off a minute ago!"
Sam: "You do know it's 11pm, right?"
Me: "11pm! Oh, shoot!" I ran to my phone only to see six missed calls over a period of four hours... Oops...

4. Lost things. Occasionally I've felt how I imagine a young child of divorced parents must feel. After looking for something I need for a long, long time, I realize I left it at Daryl's. In Nashville. Boo.

This is also troublesome when Daryl notices an article of clothing I've left with him accidentally in Nashville and he calls me to ask if I want it. Have you ever tried to describe clothing to someone over the phone? This is not helped by the fact that I'm a girl and he's a guy (have you ever asked a guy to describe a friend's wedding dress when you can't make the wedding? it  goes like this: well, it was white... it didn't have sleeves... it was kind of shiny... You might as well not even bother). I never have any idea what he's talking about. A pink shirt? What pink shirt? Do I even own a pink shirt? Baaaaaahhhh...

5. Eating in airports. In airports I can eat the following things: Cheetos (believe it or not, they're gf), Snickers bars, Cool Ranch Doritos, McDonald's milkshakes, Starburst, and Skittles. If I forget to pack my own stuff and I get delayed at all, I arrive to visit Daryl shaky, hungry, and hyper like a sleep-deprived five-year old. Not a good combination.

6. The bizarre things we fight about when we're not living in the same place. The following is an actual conversation we had a few months ago in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday:

Me: When do you want to talk tonight?
Daryl: What about nine?
Me: Lost is on at nine.
Daryl: Well, I'm going to bed at nine my time. I have an early morning.
Me: Then let's talk at eight your time.
Daryl: That's when Lost is on.
Me: Oh, right. Let's talk at seven then.
Daryl: I have a meeting at seven.
Me: Can't you stay up a little past nine your time?
Daryl: I'd rather not. Can you watch Lost online tomorrow instead?
Me: I'd rather not. Well, when can we talk?
Daryl: I don't know. The rest of my day is really busy.
Me: Shoot. Maybe we should just talk tomorrow morning?
Daryl: Wait, what are you doing now?
Me: Nothing.
Daryl: Well, we're talking now...
Me: Oh, right. Let's talk now!

This happens all the time.

7. The real value of money. We've spent money on things this year that we wouldn't have dreamed of purchasing in past years. We once paid $150 for Daryl to have an additional 24 hours in Princeton when something came up last minute (and it was worth every penny). We've purchased at least two plane tickets a month for the past nine months (and usually three or four). Honestly, how do you put a price tag on time with your spouse when you only see them every couple of weeks? You can't. This means, of course, that we've had to be careful in other areas. Fewer new shirts and jeans, creative meals. Daryl's become the master of making delicious Sunday soup or chili that lasts for dinner all week.

8. How emotion can be triggered by odd things. The first time Daryl flew in to Philadelphia this year we had been apart for only ten days. We decided to start with a short amount of separation, knowing that we had a long year ahead of us. He flew into Terminal F (aka, Philadelphia's "this-terminal-is-kind-of-an-afterthought-and-thus-VERY-hard-to-find-terminal"). I assumed he'd be in Terminal C where the rest of the US Air flights came in. I parked there and ran into the terminal baggage claim to find him. His flight ended up being about 20-minutes late. My huge I-love-Daryl smile started to get a little droopy. I sat there in the baggage claim, waiting for him to call and feeling like US Air was stealing my husband-time, moment by moment. By the time he landed my smile was droopy indeed. We had 48 hours together, and now we only had 47 1/2!

We then went through a fun game of Terminal C/Terminal F hide and seek where we managed to miss each other three times. Three times! I ran by random passengers and their luggage time after time looking more and more frantic and annoyed. Now I had 46 1/2 hours with my husband, on top of NINE MONTHS apart from him! When we finally saw one another, instead of a joyful reunion Daryl was greeted with a teary, angry, frustrated wife. I wasn't angry at him, but at the seeming injustice of the whole airport system and the whole lonely year ahead of me. How unfair for us to have to spend the year apart! How terrible to waste an hour and a half of our precious time chasing one another through an ugly airport? He had to calm me down, and I had to learn that he wasn't gone forever and that counting each moment made things worse, not better. It took time.

Plus, look how happy he was on his first day of PhD school. It helped to remember this, too.

9. How crazy it can feel to live alone. I've never lived alone. I've lived with my family, with roommates in college and after, and with Daryl. I have never in my life had an apartment to myself. It can be lonely. It can be relaxing. In its worst moments, it can be crazy-making. Sometimes I explain things to the cats like they can help me. "Eliot! Seriously, I can't figure out how to describe this concept in my sermon! You don't have any ideas, do you?"

Living alone definitely affects my cooking. I just don't. Or I make very boring and unbalanced meals. GF fish sticks and a bowl of cereal, anyone? A pear and a cookie for breakfast? Sigh... I'm a person who needs people around. I'm a girl who needs my Daryl.

In other news...
We're looking for a way to celebrate our reunion. My best idea so far is a day long hike in the Smokies when we finally settle in to Tennessee. Any other ideas for us to try out?