My husband has been gone for over a week and the realization is finally hitting us.
We both have gone back to work, he at his command and me back to being a full-time mom, part-time sub, and now part-time direct sales saleswoman. That’s a whole other part of my life but I won’t try to sell anything on here. Navy Wife Chronicles is my therapy, not my sales pitch.
On Tuesday, I felt disconnected, overwhelmed, anxious. I had a lot of nervous energy that I was going to burn off playing Just Dance on the WII.
Then I got a call from R.
He had just hit a car.
He was looking for a parking spot at Naval Portsmouth hospital, circling the huge parking structure for at least twenty minutes. Anxiety. Overwhelmed. Perhaps a bit scared.
Feeling pressure to try to navigate the aisles crowded with monstrous SUVs as quickly as possible, he accidentally sideswiped a car and left a noticeable scratch.
He left a note with his insurance information, worried about being sued, worried about the insurance company raising our rates, worried about missing his important follow up appointment, worried that he was feeling so anxious.
Ah, that’s why I was feeling so anxious.
Do you believe in being so connected to someone that you can feel what they’re feeling, even thousands of miles away?
I didn’t but since being married, I do.
I knew there was something wrong on April 22, 2010 even before someone from his command called me. I woke up in the middle of the night, headed for the bathroom, and said aloud, “Something is very wrong”… even before I realized what I was doing.
Twenty-four hours later he feels better and worse. Better knowing that although the car owner called him and his insurance company, she thanked him wholeheartedly for leaving his information in the first place. Worse because now he has the flu.
Twenty-four hours later I feel better and worse. Better knowing that he’s better. Worse knowing that I can’t give him a hug.