Home alone

It’s quiet in this house.

Kerrie, my wife, has jetted off to Mesa, Arizona on official Good Samaritan business, leaving me here on my own while she basks in the scorching desert sun. Her project is to write an article on a center down there which will be published in the Good Samaritan newsletter. I’m very proud of and excited for her; it’s a big step in anyone’s career – the first big travel assignment.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous.

With her leaving, though, I have found that this house seems so much bigger with just one person living in it. Things aren’t that different overall – we both work opposite schedules and see each other sparingly throughout the day – but there’s enough change to throw me off of my routine.

It’s funny how much we have settled into a routine, but it’s even funnier how weird it feels when a wrench is thrown into my life. When I come home for dinner, it’s just me and Becket. I turn myself over to an empty bed at night, and in the morning I wake knowing that no one told me to have a good day.

I’m not depressed about it. It’s just so quiet.

I can see now how people can just wander around doing nothing when a partner leaves or passes, for whatever reason. It’s as if my routine was laid somewhere and now I can’t find it. I find myself just puttering around the house, with nothing to pick up or put away, and wondering what I ever did with so much spare time.

Kerrie will be back Thursday, fresh from seeing Steve Nash at a Phoenix Suns playoff game, so I’ll be able to resume my routine of picking up after her and washing her dishes, and I won’t have to make my own dinner anymore.

Did I mention I was jealous?