Normalcy

Yesterday I decided I would come back to the office, just for a few hours, to regain a foothold into the "before." It's jarring to be outside of your routine, plunge into someone else's daily world, and then attempt to merge the two together. Because of the nature of Jon's day, and because he is responsible for so many different things, it really took some detective work to piece things together, and Alex and I tracked down the various pieces, and other family members pitched in to cover for the gaps.

I read somewhere once that married partners "store" some pieces of information in the other partner's memory. That's definitely true for Jon and me. Over the course of time, we've divided up responsibilities so completely that his mental hard drive and mine have very little overlap. I remember to the holiday planning, vacations, family outings, phones, small household utilities, college planning, dinners on the weekend. Jon keeps the building running, manages the schools, rec activities, driving the kids, stocking the fridge, tenant/building issues, weekday meals. When it comes to shared memories of how we met, where we went on our first date, he and I remember things differently too (and over time, he's given in and accepted my version of events. Smart man.)

So figuring out all the pieces, in the moments between the medical information, watching and caring, waiting for results, has been like putting together a puzzle. We've made it through triage (well, in our own way) and now we're sorting things out. It's only now, on day 8, that I've made a point to call the schools. The boys had gone straight to school every day, but today one woke up not feeling well, and the other had a stomachache. Were they really not feeling well--had the stress of the last week caught up with them? Or was it something else? I figured it was time to check in with the "daytime" adults who were observing the situation. Fortunately, I was able to talk to one of them right away, who gave me the insight I was looking for. It was a relief. It's always hard to accept that your kid might be holding back emotions from you, but I was glad to know he had a place to go and people to communicate with, outside of the home environment. When I get a chance to catch up with the other school my mind will be much more at ease.

My own "daytime" adults have made themselves available through messages, texts, emails, surprise visits, and have also thoughtfully protected me from the strains of everyday business. Work environments often mimic the family/friend dynamics, because people are people everywhere you go. There's quarreling, bickering, temporary taking sides, getting annoyed with each other, competing for praise, but there also blossoms over time kinship, sisterly/brotherly protectiveness, affection, and if you're lucky, deep and abiding friendship.

Getting into work mode this morning was definitely strange. I hadn't even looked at my work clothes side of the closet in days. There were points last week when I wondered whether I would be able to return to work at all. Skipping the mascara for now, in case of sudden crying.

Returning to work, parking my car in the usual section, walking the same coffee-stained hallway carpet, was a relief. Hugs galore, serious and silly updates, and softball questions came my way. Amazing how a work family can sense what you need, exactly the way you need it. Should it surprise me? Maybe not. After all, we spend more cumulative waking hours together than with our actual kin. I realized how much I missed, and needed, my work family. Love you Trojans. Fight on, always.