I was just re-reading my About Me on this blog. In it, I state that I am living with my husband again after a year and a half apart. As I read it, I realized: we have already been together again for a half a year. For six months I have been with my husband, living and working here in Mexico.
It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was worried about finding the money to call him. We scheduled our conversations to a 10-minute call once a week and two one-minute calls on days of our choice. Those two calls were to say goodnight.
It doesn’t seem like we have been saying goodnight each night for six months.
There are many things no longer present in our lives that don’t seem at all distant. Particularly the pain and the fear that comes with being forced apart and having restricted contact. There were nights when the call would not connect and I could not sleep, afraid of what might have happened. And there was the pain of knowing everything he did not have in terms of comforts, even basic survival. There were days when I ate excessively out of stress that he went without food. Nights when I slept in my comfortable bed knowing he was living out of his truck.
I cried so much during that time. I think I have cried perhaps three times since moving here.
It isn’t perfect, my life here in Mexico. There is stress, drama, house demons making things break, and handymen who sometimes make it worse. I worry about money. I work hard, and so does Sal. Sometimes it is exciting and sometimes it is so ordinary I forget I left Missouri. However, I am happy here. And incredibly, incredibly thankful for the chance to live here, with Sal, and be realizing some of the things I wanted my life to be.
Before I know it, it will be one year and a half that we have been together again. And soon, the time apart will be a distant memory.