"My husband just went back on the road and now he's only home one day a month and it's all up to me! It's just so hard!!"
"Oh, it's harvest now so I'll be a widow until all the crops are out."
Sigh. They mean nothing by such things; I know that. I still can't be held responsible for the myriad of looks that probably pass over my face. Fielding these comments is cake. They happen, I feel the stab of "you have no idea what you're saying", and then they are over. The snark in me wants them to reflect on the ignorance of their comment later... I know they probably won't. I said something really horrible to Aaron one night. He was going through treatments and working... I was giving baths to cranky kids... he wasn't helping... I yelled something to the tune of, "It sure sucks feeling like a single parent!"
Wow. How ugly. If I had known then.
That may be the thing. People say these things and they don't realize that it could be reality. I certainly didn't.
The worst thing I field? The questions from my son. My daughter talks about the gross next to never. My son is a different story. Tonight, the subject of a person's last days came up in the car ride home. His innocent, fact-seeking questions bring memories back in a swift stab. His way of speaking about it all is so matter of fact. It's just information to him. Not to Aubrey or me. That's my person you're talking about. Those are the worst hours of my life you want the details on. But I owe you the answers.
Today was full of emotion anyway. The son is displaying his strong-willed nature at school and it's being driven home how it's on me. How do I want to handle it? What do I want to do next? It's all on me. There is no deferring. There is no magic discussion to have. It's me. I should ask the woman whose husband is driving thirty days a month. Maybe she has some ideas.