It's the nights that are the hardest, I think.
I talk to him several times throughout the day. I play Words With Friends on Facebook with him. I text him frequently. We send each other pictures of life in our separate parts of the country. But at night, after the chaos of dinner and homework, baseball and dishes; when the boys are in bed, and it's time for me to head that way....I find myself at a loss.
When Coach first took this job driving over the road, we were certain we knew what we were facing. Of course, we also thought we were looking at a schedule where he'd be on the road for a couple of weeks, maybe even three, and then he'd be home for three days. We soon realized that wasn't the schedule that would bring in the paycheck that we need after his long sojourn in the Land of the Unemployed. So we stretched his first couple of "away from home" stretches to a month. Then six weeks. Then eight weeks. After all, if the wheels aren't turnin' the driver ain't earnin'....
And I managed to keep busy. Work, baseball, trying to help the Teenager find his path. Liberally lacing my days with phone conversations with Coach. The boys would call him for advice. I'd call him and let him know stupid things, like the kitchen sink was clogged but I figured it out; or ask for advice on how to take care of something or other.
But then.......bedtime would roll around, and I would find myself starting some other activity closer and closer to the time I should be heading to bed. I'd pick up a new book, I'd start a game of Angry Birds. Before long, I'd simply be too tired to even keep my eyes open any longer, and then I'd fall into bed.
People, I'm averaging about four hours of sleep a night. And I think that might be a generous estimated average.
As much as I love not fighting for the covers, or feeling like I'm sleeping with my own personal full-body heater....I don't like going to bed without him. We've been married almost 19 years, and I suddenly find myself actively avoiding my bed. For goodness' sake, it's after eleven now; and I sit here, wondering how long I can type before there's just too many words for this to be even remotely worth reading.
The nights are definitely the hardest, and I hate feeling lost in my own bed.