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He misses me when I’m not here

December 12th, 2005 · 5 Comments

Ted told me the other day that he misses my posts when I don’t have time to blog. I found his comment curious. We spend hours together each day, including time every night set aside for our relationship. Yet there is some aspect of me expressed on this blog that he misses.

I’ve been ill again, another head cold, my second one in the past three weeks. This sickness, combined with seasonal festivities and my husband’s travels, has immobilized me. The past week has been a blur of Christmas frenzy, assembling cards and packages into the night, before collapsing into bed, head angled awkwardly atop stacks of pillows to aid respiration. (see Beth’s description of their family’s hack week!)

Today I found a babysitter to watch the girls so I could go outside and take a walk by myself. My first exercise in a week was illuminated by vivid colors: blue sky, green salal, bronze bark of madrone tree, warm sun on my back, the joy of stretching legs, the feeling of freedom from the heaviness of perpetual house and headache. I took the camera with me as companion and compensated for my lack of photos earlier in the week, enjoying the opportunity to create pictures (see flickr page). Art makes you alive. Or perhaps it is art that reveals you are alive.

I miss Ted when he’s not here. Or at least I’m finally beginning to miss him, after seven days. It’s been a strange week in the absecne of appetites. Head aching with congestion, all I could consider was survival. What do I need to do next to take care of the kids? And how can I make it through the next moment? Although I was wrapping aromatic Christmas gifts – so strongly scented Ted had asked me to move them out of our room – the objects had no odor to my nose. Food had no appeal to me either. I’m embarrassed to admit what meals the girls have been eating, in the absence of Ted and my own interest and energy. But slowly my senses are returning.

And I hope to be returning here. As I’ve said in my Making Masks presentation (Gnomedex version now on-line!) we reveal different aspects of ourselves in different situations. In survival mode, I think only of the next minute. Typing seems tiresome. Naps are what I need. But as I begin to enter into health again, I find desire. I find dreams. I find creativity. I find the pieces of me that are here. And I find the ways I connect with others that don’t happen in any other aspect of daily life, perhaps even with the person who knows me most intimately.

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5 responses so far ↓

  • 1 enoch choi // Dec 12, 2005 at 8:21 am

    get well soon! make sure you’re not taking zinc lozenges, they’re known to damage tastebuds…

  • 2 enoch choi // Dec 12, 2005 at 8:21 am

    get well soon! make sure you’re not taking zinc lozenges, they’re known to damage tastebuds…

  • 3 Joy Des Jardins // Dec 12, 2005 at 9:32 am

    Julie, it sounds like you’ve had some pretty uncomfortable days. I’m glad you’re on the mend, and I hope you are totally better quickly. It’s so hard dealing with the everyday stuff when you feel “out of commission.” I can understand what Ted means by missing your posts. It’s a wonderful compliment, don’t you think? Get well, and have a warm and beautiful holiday!

  • 4 Van // Dec 14, 2005 at 11:10 pm


    I just discovered your blog over at Seablogs and I’m glad I did!
    From one NW blogger to another: keep up the good work – for you and the folks who stop by and enjoy.


  • 5 Nancy White // Dec 15, 2005 at 3:37 pm

    Get Well, Julie. I just linked to your Mask presentation on my Share Community blog — I think you are a great resource to the moms in that community!


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