Paul's state of limbo is nearing the end of its third week, and I'd be lying if I said this wasn't stressful for me as well. Where he goes, I go; what he feels, I feel, too.
It almost feels as if I'm being held by my heels, my head dangling freely, my neck craning to see what lies ahead. I try to make plans for the landing, but everything is held in such a surreal state that I can barely plan what to cook for dinner, much less plan for a move. For the moment, I can only see what is directly in front of my face.
We're patiently waiting for that phone call that will tell us of our future...do we stay or do we go? We are believing with all the faith we have that we will stay.
But then, I need to be perfectly honest. I relish a little adventure. A change like this excites me, and part of me wouldn't mind trying the other side of the state. Only one thing keeps me from feeling nonchalant about this whole situation. One huge, giant, bigger than me, supremely important thing:
The kids. It would break my heart to not be near them, and as much as that would hurt me, I can only imagine what it would do to Paul--what it would do to the kids. This family that has adopted me as one of their own needs to stay together.
So, like every military family, we wait and we do our best with what life brings us.
I'm headed up north this weekend. It's been two months since I've been, and it was January when I last went alone. The Fidalgo Avenue Block Party & Pig Roast is on Sunday, and I thought it might be nice to go. I could see some of my old clients and different people that I used to know through the Chamber.
But then, I thought, those people only liked me for what I represented and any power they thought I might have held. For some of them, speaking with me was like a tiny ego stroke and some of them have very large egos. I shouldn't be so foolish to think that I haven't been replaced. Sure, it'll be nice to wave to each other in the streets, but beyond that I am just another girl coming back for a visit. I'm a little embarrassed that I allowed my life to be consumed by such a small set of people.