While it feels as though it has been forever since I last posted, in reality it has only been about a month. Perhaps it feels so long because so much has happened in that time. Just to end the suspense, I did get all those boxes unpacked, now I have to get Evan moved into the bigger room. A task that I hope to have complete before mid June. I however will not be writing that riveting post about maternity clothes. I will just tell you that it sucks and is more expensive than really necessary.
Moving on. As you may have guessed, this post will be about distance, both physical and emotional. It's easier to write about this now, as I have a chance to look back, and not be in the moment, which is often the case. After our quick flee from Japan, Evan and I were home for 4 weeks before Scott was able to join us. He spent time not being on solid ground, and not knowing when he would reach it. We all just had to wait. For the most part I was able to manage and get through the day. He works all day and normally I wouldn't see him until the evening. I was able to trick my brain into feeling normal. However, the weekend would come and he still wasn't home, and my mood would plummet. Usually by the next day, things would magically seem better, and we would trudge through another week.
Now he's home, and although he's only been here about three weeks, the time he was gone seems like a blur. The first night he was home and we were lying in bed together, I nearly burst into tears. Not sure exactly why, perhaps the relief of knowing he was safe, and all those added pregnancy hormones. For whatever reason, it was very emotional for me, and I hope that we can remain near each other.
The night before Evan and I returned one of the cat's ran away. While I was upset about this, it really didn't seem like something to get spun up about. We had just escaped a disaster, and Scott's departure was still up in the air. I had a lot bigger things to worry about than a cat that never really seemed to care for me in the first place. About a week after Scott got home, the cat came strolling up the driveway, a whole lot skinner but not much worse for wear. The cat was gone for about 5 weeks, and she's super old. I was just pleased to know that she wasn't dead. She however still didn't seem to be happy with us and disrupted the dynamic with our other two animals. Out of concern over the fact that with another loud person joining the mix soon, she may decide to run again, we asked Scott's mom if she would take the cat. What do most old people want? Some peace and quiet and a comfy place to nap all day. Well that's what she got. Turns out her fondness for us was only fleeting, and she has settled in to her new solitary life. I only mention this because sometimes I think we try to hold on to people or things that don't necessarily want to be held on to. We often have to let go in order to give everyone the best life possible. Would I have preferred to have her here with us, even though she never liked me? Of course, we've had her since Scott and I got married. She is a part of our life together. However, forcing her to stay here would have just added stress to everyone. I would spend a lot more time worrying that she was going to try to run again. Then if she did get out, worrying about her safety while she was gone. I told Evan that she decided to go and live with someone else. While I knew this could be true, it wasn't the only answer, just the easiest for both of us. I didn't have to acknowledge the fact that she could also be dead. Hopefully she has gotten what she wanted and can be happy for the remainder of her days, which is all any of us can hope for.
Somehow it seems easier to look back than to look now. Step back, take a breath, and figure out what the heck is going on. It reminds me of an impressionist painting. The one with all the dots. Where if you stand too close, all you are going to see is dots. If you back up, you are able to see more and more of the image, until you can see it all. Sometimes you just have to back up. A few weeks can seem like an eternity, and a few decades can go by in the blink of an eye.