Saturday, March 22, 2014

This Time Last Year

I slid myself across the booth at the crowded Mexican restaurant. No need for menus, thank you. We knew what we wanted to eat. Chilaquilas for me, please. I'd been looking forward to the Chilaguilas all day. Yum! That's one recipe I never did figure out how to make at home before going dairy free.

"So today was a big day!" D says.
"Oh, ya?" I  fold my hands together and lean forward in anticipation of what he was going to say.
"I took the job," he said with both excitement and hesitation.
"Oh," is all I could say as my posture sank into the booth and my eyes turned down to look at my hands. A lump grew in my throat as I fought back tears and anger. We'd weighed the pros and cons of the job offer. I think we even literally wrote them on paper, a column for pros, a column for cons. I left the last round of pros and cons feeling like the cons outweighed the pros and thought we'd decided he would wait for another job opportunity to surface. I sat in silence in the booth. Sometimes when I sit in silence more words come out of his mouth than when I try to pull them out of him.
"There's gonna be some travel. I might be gone once a quarter. The boys are getting older. I know it won't be easy, but you'll be fine. This will be considered a foreign assignment for me and we won't even have to actually  move anywhere."

After some time I ask, "Where will you be traveling?"
" Overseas for two to three weeks at a time.....to places like South Africa and the middle east....The travel might be once a quarter. It could be more, it could be less. I'm not sure yet."

Our food arrives, but I'm no longer hungry. I push my food around my plate without eating any.

"So you are telling me you are going to be traveling out of the country, for possibly two to three weeks at a time and as much as every two to three weeks and you are going to countries whose governments have to potential to be unstable??"

"Yes...aaaand my first trip is in a few weeks."

Oh man. I've never been so mad in my life. Taking a mental look forward on the calendar I realized that my  husband would be gone while my mom was gone, while my husband's parents were gone and they were all leaving this time zone, this state, this country. So that left myself, my kids and my Dad...my babysitter was even gone. Agh!!

This was a case where I'd certainly have to dig deep and make a big 'ol fat jug of lemonade outta lemons!

A year ago last week D was in South Africa and the middle east, my mom was overseas at my sister's and my in-laws were on a cruise. And because everyone was gone my Dad had to fill in. He did great. He stepped up to the plate and helped me out. He stayed with the boys and I for a handful of nights. We had a handful of breakfasts together with sleepy eyes, p.j.'s and coffee. Dad wasn't an early breakfast eater like the boys and I, but he needed coffee to get going. Whoever woke up first got the pot going. He took his coffee black. Ick! I needed sugar and creamer (DF of course). He always talked about being a terrible sleeper and, while our guest bed was comfortable, he said he still wasn't able to sleep well. Most days he went home for a little while in the late morning (to take a nap I suspect). He returned in the late afternoon to see N get off the bus, do something fun and eat dinner before starting the night time routine. We laughed because the four of us ate on one of his prized pork loins for days. He was a meat and potatoes guy. Not much for veggies, though. And L will tell you Grandpa only liked fruit when it was in pie. L could also tell you a swear word or two that Grandpa taught him this time last year, but we'll not talk about that til he's older. ;) Dad helped with baths and jammies at night. Afterwards he'd sit down to read while I did a few chores.. He would rest his elbows on the kitchen table with his head over his book, pull out his hanky and wipe his nose. He'd push out a cough and clear his throat from time to time....He puffed on a cigar he hid on the front porch during the day and a couple times at night.. He lit it with is old fashioned flip up lighter each time then he would tuck it in the corner of the porch to hide it from the boys.. After I did a few chores we sat at the bar stools around the kitchen island and talked. I remember a lot of the things we talked about, but not everything. I just remember thinking it was so nice to have the time to talk, just the two of us. No kids, no TV, no radio. Just Dad and I. So sweet. On the nights he didn't sleep over at our house he would phone me to see how our day was and to be sure we were doing okay. He would take his cigar in and out of his mouth while we talked. I could hear his tv turned up in the background. He only smoked in the garage, so I could imagine him sitting at his work bench on his high stool with his foot up on the foot rest, his garage heater roaring away. He gave pep talks when he could tell I was tired. "Only a few more days and D will be home. You'll be fine, kiddo."

I flipped on my camera early this week and the first picture on my memory stick was a picture of Dad from this time last year when he stayed at our house. It was bittersweet. I spent a lot of time this week quietly looking back at this time last year remembering Dad and the boys together and missing Dad. And in all my thinking it became crystal clear to me that there was a bigger plan at work those months and weeks last year. Someone up above orchestrated D's job transfer, his travel to South Africa, my Mom's trip to J's and D's parents' cruise so that I could have that time with my Dad to make those memories. My boys, my Dad and I made the best lemonade outta lemons those long winter days last year. And those winter days are days I will  hold dear and cherish forever.


As it turns out D's job changed again not too long after his trip last year and he no longer travels for work. Tell me that isn't someone else's bigger plan!



Thursday, March 6, 2014

Our First Supper

I drive the van into our driveway. Our driveway, not the rental driveway. Press the button to open the garage door. It's been re-adjusted and lubricated so it doesn't make any noise. Nice.  Before I open my car door I pause and say, " Boys, some day our house will be fixed and we will pull into this driveway and this will be our home again. I can't wait!" They smile. I step out of the car, walk to the back and pull out my basket of dirty dishes. Sounds of pounding hammers and birds (bird, yay!) have replaced chirping fire alarms. Progress."Careful, boys we got more snow and the driveway is icy." Unbuckle L and he opens the back door to the house for me. "Thanks, Bud." I load the dishwasher. L puts in the soap cube, closes the little dishwasher door, closes the big dishwasher door and presses the buttons to turn it on. Fist bump. "Nice work, Buddy." We head downstairs. Carpet, walls, boarded windows, empty shelves, art work gone, tv wires dangle, tv gone. I unfold the treadmill and turn it on. "This thing's making a funny noise that it didn't make before the storm or BS as I jokingly think to myself. "Did glass get inside this? Should we claim it," are my thoughts. The boys play and fight and play while I walk. No TV. "Should we just get rid of TV in the basement after we move in," I think.

Supper time approaches. Time to throw in a pizza for the guys and cook a frozen meal for myself. We (and by we I mean, I..wink, wink) better test out the oven and microwave. If they don't work we need to get them fixed or replaced...D's running late, so I pull the oven away from the wall by myself. "Take it easy. This isn't worth throwing my back out over," I think to myself. "Man the oven plug in is gigantic!! Should I really be doing this when D's not here?? Say a prayer. Lord let me be safe while I plug this thing in....Press it in, the oven beeps. Yes!"  I press the "bake" button, then the up arrow key until I reach the desired temp. The oven beeps at me and says it'll be six minutes before it's heated up. Man, this oven is so smart. What a luxury! (Heating up the gas oven at our rental is guess work. It works, but it's guess work). I pull the frozen pizza, pizza pan and sheet of aluminum outta my bag to get things going. I pull open my silverware drawer out of habit and reach for a knife to pierce the plastic packaging. No silverware. Oops. My hands will do. The oven beeps to let me know it's warmed, I open the door and find crumbs and crud on the bottom of the stove that's probably four or more months old. Eww! "Wonder if there's glass inside the oven??? Should I really be using this thing?" Slide the pizza in and let 'er cook. The next order of business is to clean this place up! My counters have turned into a workshop. Twenty some paint color swatches strewn about. Screws, washers, shop vac parts, tile, nails sitting about...oh and dust so thick you'd never believe it. "You know what, this isn't a garage or a workshop," I think to myself. "This is my kitchen. I don't want my counter tops to get dinged up or scratched. I'm gonna clean this up to look for dings and dents but I'm also going to clean it up so we can eat here tonight," I decide.

I look under the sink to find a bottle of spray soap that's got about 1/4 cup of fluid in. Across the room is a box of shop towels sturdy enough to do the job. I use my mini broom and mini dust pan to sweep the dry wall chunks and dust off and into the garbage. Then give it a good wash with what towels and soap I have. With my back turned to the plywood floors and boarded windows and tools in the living room this place feels like home. With my face towards my two new kitchen windows, working oven and microwave this place feels like home. The can lights are shining bright, the dishwasher is humming along. Awww! This feels like home. I shut my eyes and breathe it in, holding back tears of joy.
"Beeeeeep." Pizza's done. I open the door to pull it out, no pot holders. Oops! D is here by now so he offers up three shop gloves for my hands and two small pieces of 2X2 for the counter top hot pads. Nice. It works in a pinch. Now for seating...Hmmm.. One semi-sturdy dining room chair won't due for four people. "I know, let's bring in the wicker couch from the front porch." The boys wipe it down. We pull the wicker couch up to the plastic folding table and we are in business.  Frozen pizza, a frozen meal for me, leftover restaurant napkins, Red Cross bottled water...Dinner is served. We sit. We eat. We talk and laugh. I am reminded of the sign that used to hang over our kitchen table. "Having a place to go is home, having someone to love is family, having both is a blessing."  Awww, this is so wonderful. I looong to be home. I savor this moment. I wish I had my camera to capture the scene. Instead I absorb the image and let it sink into my memory. Some day we'll be back in this house with carpet, windows, wood floors, new paint. We will look back and remember the moment when we improvised and made frozen pizza, handled it with shop gloves and 2x2's and sat on a wicker couch. At the end of the meal, there was a moment when everyone was quiet.  L broke the silence when he looked up, pointed his fingers into the air, raised his eye brows, opened his big blue eyes and said, "Mom, this is our first supper back in our house!!"