"Home" - At Last

It's been 12 days since my husband's unexpected job termination (or as he proclaims in his better moments, "Freedom Day").  It feels longer for all the miles of emotional terrain we've travelled.  It happened to him, but of course it happened to me too, not unlike a pregnancy that "happens" to a husband when a wife finds herself with child.

In the beginning the numbness takes over.  Blessed in that it provides space to hold the shock, but heavy in how it deadens ones energy and makes it difficult to do simple things like think coherently, or make phone calls.

The numbness dissipates in a day, leaving intense emotions in its wake.  But we each maneuver these emotional waves, finding ways to weather the tempest.  It helps that we are middle-aged veterans of life.  Perspective becomes our life raft, along with frequent bowls of vanilla ice cream laced in Grand Marnier hot fudge syrup.  (It didn't take long for the appetite to kick back in).

I recall many odd moments over the past few days.  Driving down familiar roads and feeling that they were all different in some way, that I didn't recognize them, or somehow didn't belong on them.  Having vivid dreams that left me both confident, and shaken:  In one dream I am flying high in the sky with my body, powered simply by flapping my arms.  I feel exhilarated and powerful.  The next night's dream finds me frantic when my husband and I are separated in a crowd and I cannot find him.

My husband and I move in a new, delicate dance now that we are both home during the day.  Since he turned in his golden handcuffs, laptop and cell phone to the company, we own one computer between the two of us.  You can read more about this satire in the latest issue of my ezine.

Some hours find my husband whistling and happy, while fear clutches my stomach.  The see saw catapults me up, and I walk around in peace and confidence , while he struggles with hurt and vulnerability.  Sometimes we meet in the middle, walking hand in hand in the knowledge that we are safe and all is well.

Along the way others have graced us in myriad ways.  I have lost count of how many of my husband's peers (and a former boss) have called and emailed him with support, encouragement, and job leads.  Prayers storm heaven on our behalf.  Dear friends and family remind us of how loved we are - and that's a currency that can't be bought or easily replaced.  Our daughters, aged 20 and 23, have demonstrated maturity, resilience, selflessness, and great love for us during this challenge.  (Somewhere along the line they transformed from "children" to amazing adults.)

I'm learning to be okay with whatever I'm feeling.  To experience it without drowning in it.  Funny how the tough feelings gradually merge into better feelings.  I'm learning to follow my energy, so I haven't always returned phone calls or emails as promptly as I typically do.  And the world hasn't fallen apart.  I discover that irreverence feels better than stoicism.

Routines reassert themselves.  I find myself able to put together the grocery list and shop for food.  My physical agitation has subsided so that I'm no longer twitching my foot up and down while sitting.  I'm spending less time looking at the "closed" door, and more time looking at the new door to our future.

Last night something opened within me.  My heart.  Creative sparks pricked my imagination.  I could sense the muse in me returning.

This morning I awoke refreshed.  During the night my muse delivered this post to me.  I got out of bed, padded down to my office, and lit my favorite scented candle as I prepared to write. Home, at last.