No Fault of My Own

Life can sometimes throw you a curve ball. Things go along, and every day is pretty much the same as the day before. And then, poof, things aren't the same anymore.

I've had a few of these momentous change days. Close to 34 years ago, everything was simple. I was a student in nursing school working towards my RN and my husband was working retail and going to school. And then we were going to have a baby. Just like that.

Poof.

Everything changed. We would forever more be parents with all the joys and responsibilities that entailed. There was no going back. Everything was changed. I did finish nursing school, Craig was 13 weeks old at the time. I did manage to get my license after passing the State Boards. I did learn about diaper rash, colic, and eventually became a dreaded soccer mom. Nothing has been the same since. I couldn’t even imagine the changes on that long ago day in the doctor's office when he said, "You are pregnant."

Years later I noticed that things were in the proverbial handbasket and heading for hell. I told my husband that he had three months to get things back on track or the boys and I would be gone. He did. But in that re-examining period, he noticed that he not only repeatedly and continually told me about how much he hated his job, he really and truly hated his job. He asked me if I would support us while he looked for a new job and I said yes. He handed in his resignation letter and instead, got a promotion and transfer.

Poof.

All of a sudden, everything changed. We moved. We raised our children far away from their grandparents. We left our secure home and moved across the state. And then poof, again. And we moved back. And then poof again, and we moved to South Carolina. Much farther away.

Sometimes, without warning, things change. Sometimes, there is a warning. Sometimes we miss the warning.

Poof.

Everything changed again. After working since he was 14, never without a job, always able to support his family either with or without me providing a second income – after all that, suddenly he was without a job. He went to work on Friday morning gainfully employed although hating the job (again or still?) and came home "not fitting into the company's future plans."

Not only has he always had a job, but for many of those years, his job entailed traveling and so I was more or less accustomed to having the house to myself during the day and often all evening and night, too. This has been a huge adjustment. We are in each other's way. We are walking on eggshells trying not to overly annoy each other. This new life style lacks a bit of style.

But as with other changes, I assume that this one will prove to be a blessing, so far in disguise. We have always made it before, and I assume we will again. He will find a job. It may be with a pay scale such that I will again be in the working world, too. But we aren't going to be living on cat food diets and in cardboard boxes. This, too, will all work out.

I'm happier when my life is routinely working. This upset in my routine, this uncertainty about the future, this latest hiccup – it's really just annoying. There could have been a string of four-letter words with derivations in there, but it wouldn't have really altered the amount of annoyance inherent in the situation.

Perhaps I will be able to write – quite soon, if I have my way about it – about a new poof experience. His new job. One that he can like or at least tolerate without rancor. One that will last until we are really ready to retire.

Maybe everyday has some small poof moment to it and I'm just really good at ignoring the small ways my life changes on a daily basis. What I'm perfectly certain about is this – we will survive this.