Whenever my wife is away from home, I realize just how much she does around here. I mean, I know that she does a ton. She was raised by nuns, her grandmother, and her Aunt Pat, formidable women all. They didn’t raise any slackers, no sir. What I mean is, I physically realize how much she usually does because I end up doing it (or at least an approximation thereof.) We both try hard not to take each other for granted, and I think we embrace these times apart as an opportunity to re-appreciate how wonderful the other is.
I am incredibly grateful that my wife is willing to take on a thirteen-week travel assignment at the opposite end of the state. She’s going to work her tail off for three months, living with my parents in order to save up the housing allowance. All I have to do is hold down the home front for the duration.
I skipped knitting tonight in order to wash dishes, put out the trash, and feed myself, the dogs, cats, and chickens. (Yay, chickens!!) I didn’t get to see my friends, but I will have the satisfaction of a clean kitchen and happy animals.
I am so grateful to my wife, for all she does when she is here at home with us, and even more for being willing to be away for these weeks. Thank you, my love.