D left for Brussels last Sunday, after a whirlwind couple of days of cleaning, shopping and packing. Until Biscuit’s official diagnosis came in, and we got his chemo rolling, D’s trip was almost an afterthought in our lives. Well, less so for him, naturally.
But for me, getting and keeping Biscuit well was priority one, followed by guilt over my flagging schoolwork. That is, until Saturday when we took one of those crazy Christmas-style trips to the mall to get shirts and ties and shoes as befit an independent consultant about to embark on his first international gig. We fortified ourselves with Cinnabons and whipped-cream smoothie drinks and somehow made it through with a nice pile of stuff. The evening was spent packing and pulling together all of the last minute details – and, for me, realizing that he was really, truly leaving.
Oh, he’ll be back soon enough. We were separated for much longer periods of time when he was in flight school. But this is the first time we’ve spent more than a day or two apart since we were married. It’s taken several days for me to settle into my solo routine. I’m still not sleeping as well as I do when there is another someone in the house. In a way, it’s like when I had an apartment with my Perplexing Roommate a number of years ago, except a better version of those days, with my life about 1000 times less screwed up. I’ve even come to enjoy meals on my own, can delight in watching non-stop Golden Girls, and have lots of free time to do my homework. It can be almost sort of fun.
Except in moments such as when D & I found some time to connect tonight, via Skype, and we suddenly realized how many days are left until I can pick him up at the airport. Foo.
Hours later, when I was finishing up in the office, I turned off my monitor and desk lamp and headed out the door. I didn’t give much thought to the whirring sound behind me until I’d nearly reached the doorway. After all, that sound means D will be up for a little while, and I can go to bed feeling safe and cozy. Then I turned with a smile and a sigh to switch off D’s computer.