I make the kids breakfast, get everyone dressed, pack the lunch bags, and we are out the door for our morning commute to school. More than an hour later, I'm finally back home and ready to try to find him.
It's 8:30 a.m. here, which means it's 9:30 p.m. there.
I check my e-mail for a clue. Just a hint that all is well on the other side of the world.
What about Skype?
"User not online. Last seen at 10:27."
10:27? Does that mean a.m. or p.m.? Is that Central Standard Time, Pacific Time or Eastern? Or is it local time? And would that be Hong Kong standard? Or China central? 10:27. It sounds so simple. But what does it really mean?
Facebook. He actually updated his status. Not much. But at least I know he's there.
I might have missed my window of communication for today. Unless he's staying up late. The phone really isn't an option. Too expensive. I don't know what numbers to press anyway. So, I'll wait.
The day seems so long when I have that one little thing to tell him. "Honey, guess what?! I'm hosting Thanksgiving!" "Guess what?! Our son only missed two spelling words!" "Our daughter can write her name!"
It will have to wait until tonight. When we're scrambling to eat dinner, finishing homework, reading, changing into PJs. When he wakes up.
He said something about going on a trip to another province. Did he mean tomorrow, as in today? No... that can't be, because today it's night. It would have to be tonight when it's tomorrow.
The spatial distance is about as wide as the earth permits. Sure, he could go south. But he's pretty much on the opposite side of the globe. Still, the distance in time continues to grow. With each passing day, it feels like the hole in my heart separates a bit more. It becomes deeper. Wider. It seems too big to hide.
It's tempting to wish the days away. But wish away October? Beautiful October? We haven't even carved our pumpkins yet.
And what about our son's birthday? He'll be 8 when Daddy sees him again. Our anniversary? Eleven years. That's still 20 days away. He might be home by then. I hope.
Maybe if I just stay inside and do nothing, the time will rush by on its own. Maybe then it will go faster?
Or I can make the most of it. Choose to enjoy it. Yep. I'm thankful for today. Glad to have it. Right here. On this side of the world. Where it's today.
I envy your ability to be creative, sane and functioning when he is gone. I would have to curl up in a ball and let the kids eat cereal for a month straight if mine were to be gone for that long!
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