I saw my sweet husband’s face for the last time this afternoon–until, that is, we’re reunited in his home country on Friday. I already miss his face. Even if it is blurry and pixelated. He left last Wednesday, and because of the 24-hour trip, the nine time zones between us, and the fact that I have to work for a living, I didn’t get to skype with him until Friday. Then again Saturday, Sunday, and today. Tomorrow it’s back to work and no more seeing his face until he picks me up at the airport. So, boo.
I’ve also been missing my dad and sister. Zappa passed out last week while preparing to do yoga. And then proceeded to finish her workout and go to work. When she finally went to the doctor, they took some blood and some pee, did an in-office EKG, and ruled out strep. Zappa hasn’t gotten the results of the other tests yet. My dad drove up and stayed with her for the weekend. He’s worried about her–perhaps disproportionately so–because of the plethora of health issues my mom had before she died. She still feels wobbly and dizzy, but insists on trying not to think about it too much and see if that doesn’t make her feel better. This is how my family deals with illness. She hopes it’s something easily treatable, like anemia or a virus that will just run its course. I hope so, too. Anyway, I wish I could be there to help distract her.
Now I know how Hubby feels being so far away from his family, especially with his dad’s health problems. He also feels guilty about not being around and his brother having to take care of everything. For that reason, I kind of hope the interview he has this Thursday goes really, really well. (And then the selfish part of me kicks in and hopes he gets something much, much closer to my own family.)
Unfortunately, there’s no solution that lets us have both. And that really sucks.