We Made it through the Wedding

Most of the reason I’ve been conspicuously quiet the last few weeks is that our daughter got married mid-September. The weeks leading up to were wild, and the week or so after? I’ve been laying low recuperating and nursing a cold.

My daughter and husband very nearly drove me to drink. “Talk to your daughter.” “Talk to your dad.” were my stock responses. I swear the two of them couldn’t organize a sandwich without instruction. Me? I prolly could have pulled off the royal wedding given the proper time and resources. Back to point. This was my daughter’s wedding. Not mine. Not his. Hers.

He thought me silly for making her responsible for finding things out, oh like, the cost of this or that.

She thought I should play go between with the dad. Em, that would be a no go. Smile, they survived without me.

The only crisis of the day was not being able to find the ring bearer’s pants. We found the pants, but not his socks. A minor casualty in the grand scheme of things. He didn’t care about socks anyway.

Husband freaked a tiny bit when his boss called for the second time. Blank stare. Really? I told him to turn the phone off and let the man hang. It was our daughter’s wedding. Stupid manager guy knew that. No work crisis on wedding day. Husband didn’t argue. Huh?

He turned off the phone, put it in his pocket and we enjoyed the evening in peace. People you have no idea how monumental this is. He put work on hold. HUGE!  This is the same man who almost made me come home on a train, by myself, after my mother died, because he was stressing about what his boss would say, do..ack.   It is so remarkably wonderful, I can not begin to express.

It looks as if we’re getting closer to where we need to be. I gave him more closet space today.  Don’t look at me like that.

We’ve had separate rooms because of his snoring for years. He had his own closet, and I had my two. They weren’t both filled with my clothes. There are extras for the grandkids, and my work uniforms. I moved the uniforms to my office closet and moved the rest of my stuff over so we aren’t so squished. I don’t share personal space happily. grin

He gave me a hug for my efforts and remarked that he knew how difficult it was. Change, the good sort, is afoot.

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Here I am.

It’s been a long time coming, and here I am in my new place for at least thirty days. I even managed to get myself hooked up to the internet. This is generally my husband’s job, so it felt good to do it by myself.

He brought over dinner last night. We talked, cried and talked some more. I didn’t feel so overwhelmed with him on my turf. He’s been mighty clingy. I don’t do clingy any better than I do ignored.

I thought it would be a lot weirder than it is. At this point I know we aren’t going to get anywhere living together, at least I’m not. It’s so nice not to feel the pressure of being at the house. It’s just me and my pet rat, Maggie. Yes, I said rat. She’s a complete love and I adore her. The two of us make a good team. smile At present she’s checking things out, under my watchful eye.

Per status quo I forgot things at the house and had to go back. I tried to figure out a way around it, but couldn’t. The cost of the items forgotten couldn’t be justified. It was a difficult trip and very strange to be in the house. I’d only left a few hours earlier, but it still felt foreign to be there. It’s not my place anymore, and I’m okay with that.

Right now I don’t know if it will ever be ‘my place’ again. My name’s on the mortgage, yet estranged.

I have to deal with financial stuff today, and turn in my rental paperwork. I’m doing month to month. The least amount of pressure possible is what I’m going for. The sun is shining and it looks to be as if it’s going to be a beautiful day.

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