Stop the ride I want to get off...

Friday, September 09, 2005

Is happiness too much to ask for...

Meep, I just looked back over my blog, I’ve been soooo bad. I apologise for not posting more often. But suffice to say I was having fun, it’s nice to get away from the puter and live life. I should do it more often, but life just doesn’t seem to work like that.

So Atlanta was so much fun and a real eye opener. Hubby called us… no times, despite having two numbers to contact us on, one being a mobile. We had a couple of emails but again nothing spontaneous… ooh I tell a lie, one spontaneous email asking where we were. It gets worse…

We got back on the Sunday morning and were leaving for Cornwall on the Thursday morning. I had, reasonably I thought, assumed that he would take the Mon, Tue and Wed off work. After all he’d had a month to get organised, and is two weeks off with your family too much to ask for. Bear in mind in UK you get a lot more holidays. So we’re driving home from airport and I ask “You off this week?” “Uh no, work tomorrow and Tue then I’m going golfing with a friend on Wed.” Stunned silence on passenger side of the car…

“Sorry? Did you say you’re going golfing? You’ve not seen the kids in a month and you decided going golfing was a good idea?” embarrassed silence from drivers side, fuming atmosphere from passengers. But it gets better…

That afternoon the grandparents, his parents, come rushing round to see the kids. I start discussing my upcoming op with them and childcare arrangements, they are great at helping out, so long as you can give them some warning. Grandma asks how long I’ll be in and how long to recover. I tell her… one night and two weeks resting if they get them by keyhole, if not four nights minimum in and three months recovery resting. Hubby pipes up, “Uh what does resting mean exactly?” Grandma and I both reply at the same time “Not doing very much, bed rest.” “Oh,” he says “Only my golfing holiday in Spain is that weekend.” Well Grandma looked at me and I looked at her, we looked at him. Steam poured from my ears as I asked “Uh so when you moved my op to a week later because you had something important on at work, you didn’t think about the holiday?” (That is yet another nail in his coffin by the way.)

Monday night, he gets home from work and announces that he won’t be home till very late the next night as he has to go out for dinner. So he’s racking up the points here, can he make it any worse…

Tuesday night when he calls he says “Did I tell you about the course in France, week long, Oct 2nd.” I’ll wait while you check your calendars and do the maths. Yep it clashes with my bed rest. Good eh?

I have to say all of this, and some stuff I’ve been able to process through writing about Amy’s illness is making me see that things here are very wrong. Before you ask, I have tried to talk about stuff, he walks away, he denies it and one time he said he’d try to do better. I have breast cancer, it doesn’t go away. Right now I have no evidence of disease, next week I could relapse, maybe in a couple of years, hopefully never. I feel that means I should expect the best of life and try to make it happen. Staying in Atlanta I realised what was missing, not the sex life, din’t get none of that out there (just like home), not the money. It’s knowing that someone is backing you up, ready to give you a hug when you need it and someone to talk to. That month I wasn’t lonely, I got on so much better with my daughter. I got to do stuff with my friend, we built a deck, we washed the dogs, walked the dogs, took the kids out. Heck we even did grocery shopping together. Oh and the cedar lined closet we made… sooo cool. Brighton would have been proud of us. I watched less TV, I was rarely on here, as you may have noticed.

If the kids hadn’t been missing their Dad I’d have been working out how to stay. So anyways that’s the thinking I need to do. In other news both children started a new school this week. It’s all very exciting and expensive. But the place is beautiful, the teachers seem to be friendly and both kids are loving it. Can’t be bad for two days in. So I’m trying to be there for them, which means picking them up, treats, and time to talk.

Next post… my new addiction…

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