Miss You

Hubby got a new (and better) job and has spent this week in Dallas at the company headquarters.  He'll be home in about four hours.  Yep, I'm actually counting the hours.

I know it's healthy for relationships to have some time apart.  Makes you appreciate each other, and renews feelings which can often become buried under the stresses of every day life.  That has been the case with us this week.  He told me on Wednesday, "I'm bored.  I guess I miss you."  Coming from him, that's actually high praise.

I had lots of plans to get things sorted and organized, and start working on yet another reincarnation of my craft room.  No distractions I thought, no needing to be quiet during the wee hours when energy and my creative muse often visit.  The best laid plans of mice and men...and me.....

A day and a half before Geoff left, the dog was walking around in a field and stepped on something sharp, slicing open one of the pads on his rear foot.  We took him to the doctor, got antibiotics and it was bandaged.  Then I had another vet trip on my own.  A 95 pound dog, born and bred to pull a heavy sled is not easy to coax into the vet's office.  He pulls lots of things with ease, including me.  But a dog who was advised to stay off his foot as much as possible (he only has three legs so that foot must be used) still should not have derailed all my plans.

I was surprised at myself.  I wandered around, in a semi-frozen state.  Not able to concentrate, not feeling motivated, and often without much energy.  Several times I slept for 12 hours, and still no energy.  So at that point you know you're crossing over into depression territory.  I felt like my rock was gone.  My security, my beacon.  I spent a fair amount of time lecturing myself and reminding myself the Lord is my rock, my security and my beacon.  The logical me could not snap the emotional me out of the funk.  I had no appetite and was literally having to make myself eat.  Eventually I gave up and concentrated on keeping myself and my dog nourished, making sure he got his medicine and I got mine, and letting the world continue to turn without input from me.

I miss you Geoff.  Your short military haircut, your worn and soft leather jacket, your patient and caring blue eyes.  And the way you can hug me and make everything okay again.  Fly safe my love, your wife and dog will waiting at the airport.