Maybe Not As Easy As I Thought

I am at the fifty-yard line of my transition to live in Charleston, South Carolina; the first time living outside the state of Ohio. I continue to attend to the task of clearing and packing up the contents of our residence of three years to be ready for transport in December.

The plan I started with is often interrupted by the emotions that are beginning to rise to the surface of my soul.

On March 24, my brain began to create a plan of transition and I wrote down all pros and cons for me to look at and consider. While absorbing the lists, a signal was sent to my brain to create a timeline. That plan also included the possibility of my husband and I living separately for six months.

That day in the airport waiting for a flight to meet members of our future church, I sensed in that moment that we were going to move. We accepted the pastoral appointment in the palmetto state to begin July 1.

As I am writing this, I am closer to that final step; at the 50 yard line to reaching the goal of moving.

For multiple reasons, we agreed I did not have to rush to uproot and move right away. I decided to take the six months to work and engage in other activities before leaving Columbus while he began his appointment in July.

When that decision was made, the emotions that came were not expected. There were days I missed being with my husband and was flat out lonely.

We both missed our daily interactions that made our days easier.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the ability to spread out all over the house doing sewing projects. I am elated to watch as many documentaries as I want, without being scoffed at. And let’s not forget binge watching Star Trek and Law and Order episodes and eating peanut butter and jelly on toast for dinner.

But with all those experiences I had enjoyed, I missed being with my partner. I miss our 6:30am coffee and conversation time each morning before work, laughing, while watching 90 Day Fiancé and Sisters.  I also miss those acts of service - filling my gas tank, taking the garbage to the curb, loading my car with all my work stuff before I leave for work, etc.

There may be someone reading this with more years of marriage under their belt than we have, that would love to have time away from their spouse. But I am being honest! I miss him, and I miss us. I feel the vacancy of his space.

This transition is hard, but it is okay. I am ready for the next but understand this is part of my journey. So, as I sit alone eating PBJ on toast and spreading sewing projects throughout the house, I will remember these days a year from now wondering: “When will he be leaving to go out of town for a few days?”