Accept the things I cannot change

Holy Shit, April was the last time I blogged. Sorry. Frankly, just haven't felt like writing much. I think about it, but actually doing it has been a different story. 

Every since December 2018, life's been pretty upside-down. That's when my 68-year-old mother passed away. It was three days before Christmas. She was packing the car, preparing to drive up to our house for a number of days. My dad found her in the driveway. Losing your mother sucks, plain and simple. I was not in the right headspace for a solid 6-9 months, or maybe it was 12 months? It seems like a blur. 

Then October 2019 came. That's when I ruptured my Achilles tendon. I was at Cici's cross country meet, and I went from a walk to a run so I could meet her at a point on the course to cheer her on. With that push off, snap! 

It was a shitty.shitty injury. The injury and surgery weren't the worst parts...it was the fallout from the non-weight bearing and immobility for three months. When I got out of my boot at 12 weeks post surgery, that's when I saw the overall damage my body took. 

I'm doing okay now. I'd say I'm 90-95% back to normal. I know my current limitations, as does Steve. He watches me, apparently, and notices when I compensate. He actually just told me this the other day. I didn't know. Sort of creepy, but sort of sweet and caring. I'm back to yoga. Up dog isn't easy...the toes thing. And any squat pose isn't the best for me. Oddly enough, my quads have been really impacted from this injury. Both quads. They are tight. And then it makes my knees all weird and painful. Did you know your quads muscles connects to something or another under the knee cap? Yeah, that's a trouble spot for me. Kneeling, squatting, and even my preferred sexy time position of being on top have all been compromised. My balance is pretty close to normal! I walk about 3 miles a day, about 5 days a week. This has been the biggest therapy for me, I swear. At first my walks were about a mile, and I was exhausted. My foot would throb. I would be winded. Now, I can march out 3 miles at my normal pace. Running still isn't comfortable. The repair to my tendon included work on the actual tendon, as well as two anchors into my heel. One anchor is a bit ornery, and likes to act up from time to time. When I run, I can feel that anchor, like a tightness/pulling sensation. I'll give it more time. I do shoot hoops from time to time. This helps me with my jumping and trotting and overall quicker movement. 

Never take your locomotion for granted. Keep moving your body. It's soooooo important! 

Ok, so that was October 2019. 
Then in November 2019, Steve's father went into the hospital for a surgery, and remained in the hospital for five months until his death. He passed away in April. Five months in a hospital was stressful for everyone involved...and then let's add a global pandemic to the mix in those last months. Steve chose not to see his father in fears that he would transmit Covid to him, since he had been flying to Seattle quite often. Then it came time where the entire family was forced to not see him. My father-in-law passed away on a Friday morning, surrounded by hospital staff. We held a small funeral a couple days later. We just buried his cremated remains about a month ago, at a more public gathering. 

So, not only has Steve been grieving the death of his father these last number of months, after months of processing his declining health, he's also has the stress of his work situation. 

Airline pilots are all about seniority, right? Steve is sitting about 50% right now. Over the years his seniority grew better and better, and he would make the remarks of being safe from furlough. I'm convinced that pilots always have some mind-chatter of the risk of furlough, even in the best of time. Having 9/11 as the example of furlough in his back pocket, one would have never thought aviation would be hurt worse than that. Enter Covid. 

It was probably around mid to late March that Steve really looked at his seniority number...shit was getting real. And he just shared a company letter from last week. He called the letter a "shit sandwich." Nothing looks good right now. Even at 50% he is still worried about losing his job. 

Steve hasn't landed a plane since March. He hasn't flown since April. He did take voluntary leave in July, and is back to reserve for August. But, due to his lack of landings he can't fly right now. He has to go back to the simulator to get his landing qualifications back before he can fly again. 

Steve's stressed. He's grieving. Sometimes he hides it. Other times he doesn't. He gets pissy and short. He rests/naps a lot more than usual. Grieving is tough. And so is stress about the possibility of losing your job. Sometimes I don't know if it is the stress or grief that's talking. He's introverted. He processes most things internally. I do my best at biting my tongue to not elevate a pissy situation. I do my best at keeping positive and distracting from the shitty-ness of things. I do my best at being the strength when he is weak. 

After 12 years of working part-time, I'm back to full-time. It was really about time I went back to full-time anyway. The kids are old enough that I don't need to get them off the bus anymore. This gives Steve peace. If he loses his job, we have our worst case scenarios planned out. He's a planner like that when it comes to money. I know things will work out. Don't they always? Kismet. 

Every night, with few exceptions here and there, I get to lay my head down next to Steve's handsome face. Sounds like the norm for most married couples. But, remember that our relationship has been BUILT on his absence. Absence is the norm for us. When I met him he was already a working pilot. He always travels. But, he hasn't been absent since April. Every.single.night.next.to.his.handsome.face.

I joke. I joke. All in all, we're good. Steve and I are fortunate that after all these years we still actually really like one another. OK, there were those days where his beard was out of control. The beard! As a pilot he has to be clean shaven, or only wear a mustache. When Steve doesn't work, he grows his beard. I can handle about 4 weeks of the beard, and then it's just too damn much. He looks great in a beard, incredibly masculine. But, it's the constantly stroking of said beard that drives me UP A WALL. On numerous occasions I actually told him I was not able to look at him. Seriously. The stroking was constant. If I looked at him directly, I knew I would lose my shit. I wouldn't even kiss him. I really hated it. I believe I even texted my sister the question of whether anyone ever divorced over facial hair. 

After about 2 months he FINALLY shaved it. The catalyst: an ice cream cone. He took Ben for ice cream after hiking, and the ice cream left his beard all sticky. He got home and shaved. When I noticed, I couldn't have been happier. I kept touching his face. So soft. And he finally got some kisses. 

That was back in June. Folks, the facial hair is back. This time the eww-ee horseshoe mustache. I asked him to shave it. He won't. I'm certainly not the only pilot wife that is dealing with this facial hair nightmare. 

OK, let's get off the facial hair thing. You can obviously tell I really like him best clean shaven. In my defense, he conditioned me this way. So, there! Back to his work status. I made an error in Ben's room the other day. Steve and the kids purged their bedrooms, which lead to Ben rearranging his room. Which lead to moving a wall lamp. Which led to patching the walls. Which led to repainting the patches. Which led to me using the WRONG wall color. I used the blue of our office ceiling, not Ben's room color. Whoops.

If your curious, my sister painted the plane pictures...one for each of Steve's type ratings. Not shown is his regional airline, with the actual tail number from his last leg before going mainline. 

So, enter new paint and trim. The room needed it anyway. Ben was 2 years old when we moved into the house. It was time. 

Where am I going with all this? While painting, I was listening to news and podcasts. One takeaway that helped me gain so much: no matter what the situation is you are going through right now because of Covid, you are NOT alone. And it got me thinking about all the aviation folk out there...we really are in all this together. Yeah, yeah, sounds super cheesy and corny, but it's true. We are all dealing with this same thing. Finding validity to your thoughts and feeling helps. Knowing that you are not alone helps. 

We have no control over this. Accept the things I cannot change. 

We do, however, have control over how we respond. This is where I come in and can help with all this...

I will continue to be the safe harbor for Steve when his mind is chattering too fast. I will continue to keep calm about things. I will continue to keep things balanced in our home. I will continue to shine light on the good that can come from this. 

Steve wanted to sell the boat in the Spring. I wasn't ready to do that. I knew this summer had the potential of being a great summer. We knew going into summer that there was a strong chance he wouldn't fly much. Perhaps it's the calm before the storm, but I'll take it! In anticipation of a lot of lake time, we ended up buying a waverunner at the beginning of summer, and it's been fun for Steve and the kids. We're experiencing the lake in a new way! We've been at the boat a lot. Our (new to us) marina have been great, and we feel totally at home there. From the great people, to the pool, to the snack stand, to, well, basically everything, we made the right move! (Moving to a new marina is kinda like moving houses...gotta find the right fit.) And the evening sunsets are simply spectacular! Yes, we buried Steve's father. Yes, we are dealing with a global pandemic, but I'll take the good days! 

I wish you all peace. Seriously. I know there are many worried minds out there. I know there are sleepless nights. But, know that you are not alone. Know that others are in the same boat. Know that you, we!, will get through this. What a time we are living in now! Seriously, this is something for the history books. We will all look back with so many stories about how we managed and coped and survived. I haven't set an alarm since late March. Steve and I watch a show each night, while the kids watch a movie. We eat family dinner (all 4 of us) every night. Live and love those moments. Take the good moments. 

And, I promise to blog more. I already have my next blog in mind. Hopefully I will publish it next week.