Alone/together

At about 2:30 this morning my husband was getting dressed to drive to Toulouse to catch his 7 a.m. flight. He will be playing golf and participating in a conference in Orlando.

For five years, except for our business travels when we both go, we have been constantly together. Our writing desks are only about 10 feet apart.

My late friend Barbara said, couples shouldn't live in each other's pockets, but we do with a positive synergy. Sometimes I will go off with friends or he'll play golf but mostly we are sharing a pocket.

I was happily single for 41 years. Sometimes I shared living space. With three other people, Susan, Julia and my daughter, we could be alone together. That space sharing is the same with my husband.

When rarely he travels on his own, I relish the knowledge that I can still be alone and love it. I can cook things he doesn't like (we share cooking alternating days). But I love being with him more.

When he's writing, I don't exist. I know if I tell him something during that time, I almost need to write it down and have him sign it Lu et Apprové like the French do -- proof he was informed and agreed. In a way I am jealous of his concentration ability.

When he emerges, he often shares what he has been doing, as I do with my writing. We constantly bounce ideas off one another and not just on writing but all aspects of our lives from looking at a sunset to Tourist Tuesdays to watching a Netflix to to to.

There's also the consideration such as whoever gets up before the other will make sure the towel rack heater is on so we can get out of the shower and dry off with a warm towel and put on a warm robe.
It's the "what can I get you," if one of us goes into the kitchen.

At least five times this morning, there's something I would have shared with him had he been here.

For the next few days I will be alone-alone. I will write, write, write, walk the dog, stop for tea with friends. Then Julia will be here and we will go to the giant Vide Grenier, eat good meals. She will wander off on her own, see her friends she has met here, notice all the changes. I am looking forward to that sharing too.

As I was putting away laundry, I walked into the snore room. I noticed a pink bag. Assuming Rick had put it there for me, I opened it. There was a beautiful pair of slacks and a print top that matched perfectly.

The leaver always notices the absence more than the leavée because the leavée is usually very occupied, there is no presence of the other person. Rick will be lucky enough to get in at least two rounds of golf with a good friend and business associate, the conference will be productive.

When he's back we'll be going back to Geneva and also to Stockholm...in each others' pockets. I like pocket living.