As they were driving to the airport he asked the kids and her to give him some words of encouragement. He said he was nervous about his new adventure, about leaving them, to live elsewhere.
"Be aggressive. Work hard. Think of us. Have fun. Be happy." Words from the mouths of babes.
She was certain of their decision, yet not. She felt a sadness overwhelm her. She felt anxious. She didn't say anything. Couldn't. She simply held his hand and smiled, tears in her eyes.
"I won't disappoint any of you," he emotionally blubbered out.
When they arrived at LAX, destination - international, all she and her children could do was watch him go. Watch him walk through the sliding glass doors. Walk through the departure entrance, as they sat in the car. He looked back. One last wave goodbye. All four of them in fits of melancholy waved back, slowly, full of apprehension.
Options for him, for work, were few. When an opportunity arrived for him to work and live for a year in Honduras, located in Central America, the place where he was born, it seemed like a dream come true. For him. She was supportive, no doubt about that; yet, she didn't know what to except, how to behave, exactly.
Watching him walk away, all she could think of is a year! So much can happen in a year. She wondered if, while living there, he would realize he should have never left. His extended family lives in Honduras. His mom. His brothers, sisters, and cousins. His aunts and uncles. Oh, my!
Whenever he called from his paid for by the company as part of the lure to get him there apartment, he sounded so happy. "I kiss the picture of all of us, first thing in the morning and before retiring for the night. It gives me strength." All she can think, not say to him, is "What happens if he decides not to return? He is enjoying oh-the-memories of his homeland. What if the pull to stay is too strong?"
She was still adjusting.
Paranoid thoughts again! took over. She began thinking that maybe they won't survive the huge distance between them. "Positive. Think positive," she told herself. She knew it's not unusual to feel like she does. Five minutes later, she again! questions herself. "I am not really a pessimist, so... what does it mean when she is consistently not optimistic?... day by day...," she keeps again! reassuring herself.
She wonders if maybe she should have had a tantrum, fell to the floor, stomach down, and kicked her toes into the hardwood flooring all-the-while screaming, "No way! No how! You cannot leave!"
Something was not right if she wakes during the why am I even up at this hour? early, early, seriously early morning. She is thinking about their situation.
"Isn't this supposed to be a good thing for us? He's at the top of his game. He's so enthusiastic about everything! Is it because he's on his own, no one to answer to? Oh, man. What is happening to me? I'm usually an it'll work out kind of person, yet I'm not feeling it work," she frustratingly again! speaks out loud, to no one but herself.
She knows her thoughts are out of control. She continues to adjust.
Later that same day, three things helped to ease her mind. First, a may I talk to you about my situation; all you need to do is listen friend simply said "What a great opportunity for him" and "You just need to focus on your daily routine without him, for now."
Second, she found a note he had left behind for her. "It's you and me," they always tell each other.
Third. The we are in this together phone call. She told him it's hard not to see his facial expressions when he's explaining something that excites him. The I'm so eager to tell you everything face. "I'm having a hard time adjusting to not being able to just hug you, hold your hand," she cried into the earpiece during their long distance call. He listened, graciously. He understood. "It's you and me. Don't ever forget that," he told her. "You are my blondie," he calmly whispered as he ran his fingers through her salon-produced highlighted locks.
She's relaxed, a I feel better now mood.
She's getting better at I can do it adjusting.
6 days down, since he left... so many left to go!
Sigh. She exhales, heavily.