The Week.

The week in review. It is hard to believe that after over a year of time, so much comes to a boiling point in the very same week. On Monday, I finally met with the county and had my questions answered. There was an apology given, an excuse, an explanation. "Things were complicated by WC...." I heard them. I understood what they were saying. I understood those complications from the beginning. I also told them, that while I appreciated the difficulties of the situation, had they simply communicated that they needed more time, instead of ignoring me. Ignoring all of my attempts at communicating, not calling on the days and times specified by them for such communication. That I made myself available each and every one of those times, but was left waiting. That the unforgivable part was not in the fact that they were unprepared to meet with me or discuss my questions. The unforgivable part was failing to keep me informed. Failing to tell me that they they had jumped the gun in initially agreeing to discuss it, and that they needed a little more time. Much of my frustration, my fears, my changing plans, the extra worry, all could have been relieved with a simple communication. I hope that is now surely understood. That being said, the meeting was fruitful. My questions were answered. He is set to be retired at the end of this month. I understand what that means. I know how it works. I know how long I will have medical coverage. Questions, answered. Wednesday was a hard day for me. Many people knew and I got quiet messages through the day. It was his 40th birthday. 40 years old. 22 years ago I met him, we were both just 18. I remember the first birthday gift I gave him. We had just been dating weeks. Mad magazine, red licorice, and liquid starch. (ROTC uniforms) I also gave him a card. I ran across that card recently when looking in his things for something. In all of these years I have not seen it. He saved it. On Thursday I had to go to court. To gain conservatorship of my 40 year old husband. Friday found me making the 4 hour drive back over to see him, and as it is Sunday afternoon, I am preparing to make that same drive home. The girls did not know it was his birthday this week. I kept it to myself. They knew we did "daddy's race" for his birthday and D brought a cake and everyone sang happy birthday and it was a good day. It was a happy day for them. I didn't want them to close their eyes that night missing him any more than they already do. I didn't want them to feel that loss any more sharply. I will drive home tonight, pick them, tuck them into bed, get their things ready for school in the morning. I will unpack our suitcases, and do the laundry, set out their clothes for the morning. I will have a nice long shower before bed, and when I am there, I will cry. I will cry because I miss him, because they miss him, and because of all he is missing. When I wake up in the morning, the week will start all over again. Another day. Another week.