I was waiting to hear from my husband. He was coming home from China, he hadn’t called before he left for the airport. Due to the time differences and dates being different I thought maybe I’d made a mistake with my mental math about when he was coming home. I went over things in my mind; I was supposed to pick him up the next day. I thought that he’d been too busy getting to the airport and that he’d call once he’d checked in, but still no call and over there it was getting to be almost noon. Surely he had time to call me by now.
I told my son, something was wrong. He tried to reassure me that everything was okay, but I had a pit in my stomach that wouldn’t go away and with each minute that went by I kept thinking. He’s going to call now; okay… now… now?
It was about this time (midnight) when someone was knocking on my door. I’d heard some noises outside that sounded like someone trying to get into my shed. Some thumps and mumbled voices, I didn’t know anyone in Florida that might come by at that time of night. When they knocked on the door, I thought these people tried to break into my shed and now want to get into my house… ya’ll must be crazy. The shapes through the door were familiar, voices I recognized from working in South Carolina.
I opened the door and said: “Well, this can’t be good.” They were very somber, but I was still optimistic that hubby had missed his flight, gotten injured somehow, had a medical emergency. It never crossed my mind that he was gone. I remember asking if his plane went down. (It was after that Egyptian plane disappeared from radar on May 19th 2016.) They said he didn’t make it down to catch the plane, he never came down. Still not understanding what they were trying to tell me, I asked where he was. I thought he’d been kidnapped for ransom or something had happened to him or maybe he was in the hospital, maybe a coma.
Finally, I understood. Shock, horror, fear, disbelief. There’s a mistake! This isn’t real. What the hell am I going to do? What do I need to do? Are you sure? How will I do anything/everything without him?
For three years, I’ve struggled to understand. I’ve held onto hope that maybe he is in a Chinese prison and that I have to do something. That no one from the US saw him and that the people there are too afraid of their government to tell the truth. I’ve put one foot in front of the other and kept going even though I don’t want to.
I’ve been lost without him.
That is such a cliche to say, but I have no idea who I am without being Dave’s wife… or what I want to do with my life now or where I want to do it or how I will do it even if I did know.
I want what I had. I miss him and the way our weirdness clicked and how he got me better than anyone else. I sleep with one arm stretched out to his side of the bed, still reaching for him. I miss his sense of humor, oh god how I miss intelligent conversation!
I also feel guilty for wanting what I had… because it can’t be with him anymore. That feels very disloyal… and I know he wouldn’t want me to be lonely and sad.
But the week leading up to “The day” I’ve descended into a deep depression. No energy, no will to do anything. I didn’t do housework, I didn’t sleep right, I spent a lot of time in bed and wore the same clothes for 4 days. I had no appetite and cried randomly throughout the day and night. Father’s day and the anniversary were a double whammy that kicked my behind.
Monday was better. With it in the rearview mirror, I’m returning to my normal self again. I don’t post on the anniversaries or birthdays… I can’t. I have to wait for a few days to collect myself. That is why the post is so late.