21 Months

Twenty one Months

It’s been 21 months since I’ve heard you, at least on the phone. Work is the same, covering for other teachers because we don’t have enough subs, etc. I don’t think you would like the protocols everyone has to follow these days. I asked Puffer the other day how her husband’s year was going at Northview, and she said it’s been ok. They’re having a lot of parent backlash against masks there, with parent groups saying the masks and dividers are creating a “Hell.” Like they really know Hell….

Mitch bought a house a month ago. I think you’d like it, a cute older ranch in Prairie City. He needs help decorating, but Sarah took a job in Burlington. I haven’t asked how they’re doing, or what their long term plan is. I don’t know how to bring that up, that was always more of your thing. Everything seems fine when I’m around them, even the cat. Oh, I forgot about Coleman– Sarah found a kitten hiding in a cooler at her grandma’s farm. She decided to keep it, so now Mitch has had Coleman (get it? Kitty found in a cooler?) for almost 8 months. He’s cute, I suppose, but I do start to get the itchies when I’m over there and around him. 

Mary has finally ditched the medical/science major. She’s changing to art, with the possibility of going into teaching. I told her I had expected the change, that I thought it would have happened last year, but the shutdown kinda locked everything into survival mode.

The shutdown, how do I explain that to you?? It was surreal. The news had been covering the virus as it was spreading, first in China, then Italy, cruise ships next. They were saying it wouldn’t affect the US at all at first, but the stories kept getting reported. Seattle nursing homes, then people coming back from China on business. I was distracted because of how bad Jack got….

Oh, Jack. Sorry, but  I had to put him down. It got so he could hardly get around without using the strap to lift his back legs. I had talked to the vet, then the kids. We were going to take him in on a Saturday morning when Mary could come back from Ames and Mitch didn’t have to work. But on the Wednesday before we planned to do it, I came home and Jack hadn’t moved all day. He couldn’t stand, and I had to hold his bowl and lift his head to get him to eat and drink anything. Mitch was in town at Sarah’s. I had him stop by, and he agreed I had to get it done the next day. It was tough, but Jack had given up, knew it was his time.

The week after all that, I had parent teacher conferences, and that was when it got really weird. College sports getting shut down, airlines shutting down. We joked about them having conferences like everything was normal, but that all changed on our Friday day off. The governor announced schools would be shut down for six weeks, at least. The rest of the world started to panic. I’m glad you missed that part of it.

I ended up getting a new puppy. Dink convinced me that the time was right with everything going on. You’d really like Duncan. He’s so goofy and ornery, he reminds me so much of Amos, except he doesn’t shed all over, and he doesn’t destroy woodwork and furniture. He’s been a lot of work, but I don’t know what I would have done without him. 

How am I without you? That’s a tough one dear. I’ve struggled at times, drank too much, spent too much. Worried too much. Been alone too much, at times. That’s what I miss the most, you being here. I know you thought I wasn’t happy, thought I wanted more. In some areas, maybe. Maybe I should have brought up counseling for both of us, then I would have understood better how the medications, age, and stress were affecting you. Maybe find ways to bring some of that back. Maybe so both of us could have found some way to bring that back. Maybe it would have helped me understand your fears, helped me understand how to help you more, to get through the summer and carry on with what our lives were meant to be. I need you to help me help the kids, but you’re not here. I have a hard time trying to be mom and dad. I don’t even know how good of a dad I am, let alone a mom.

I’ve met some other women, but they’re not you. I’ve even loved a couple of them, but they’re still not you. And every payday, every 23rd of the month, I get reminded that it is one more month without you. I love and miss you, and always will.