He isn't "home.........."

I consider myself to be a fairly conscious person. Well, that’s what I do for a living and a life, so I hope so!

So, when my husband announced that (just because I asked the question) he had to go to New Orleans to assist in whatever way he could after Hurricane Katrina ravaged the Gulf Coast, I wasn’t surprised and I knew it would be easy to be supportive.

We found the money to send him off, nothing at home couldn’t be handled by one, he already had holiday time booked, I wasn’t worried about his safety. It WAS easy to see him go off to do what he does best. He even called on the day he was to start the return trip to tell me he had to stay longer. No problem - some clients of his to rearrange, his colleagues to call, the fallen tree would have to wait a few more days...

And now he is home - he has been for three weeks. And yet, a part of him stays in Pearlington, Mississippi where he toiled with his hands and his heart beside others who came to do the same. Together they created a shelter, a clinic and a supply centre that could receive and dispense all the amazing donations. He was proud of what he accomplished - and rightly so - and he and his “renegade” friends keep each other informed about the progress of their work as it continues without them.

I can imagine what other spouses and family members might be experiencing as their loved one comes home from the “front” of humanitarian aid with a whole new focus. I know that I want to be fully “there” as my husband talks on and on about the anecdotes of a group of loving volunteers who made a difference. He refers to his new friends by their nicknames, expecting me to remember them all and all the details he has shared with me about their courage and their hard work. When he isn’t emailing them or calling long distance to check up on their well being, he is pacing - thinking about them, worrying about some, marvelling about all.

I sometimes feel left out, though. I find that some days I miss him more now that he is home, than I did when he was away. And yet, I know that he is different - better - for the experience, and that it is forever imprinted on his heart. Even as I write this, he is making plans to return to Pearlington with a team, in a couple of weeks, to offer friendship and an ear to those whose emotions will now be surfacing and to take gifts of hope along for the children. His longer-term planning includes an ongoing program for children and more emotional support for their parents and other adults.

So, what is my job of support while I have some feelings of my own with which to deal? In the spirit of conscious living, here is what I have done.

First, I find ways to encourage myself in my own work and my own personal growth. I go out of my way to compliment myself, pat myself on the back for a job well done, reward myself. Then, when I share that with my husband, he affirms it. Yet, he doesn’t have to feel responsible for “making me feel good.” I do that.

I have had to really think about the kinds of emotional and physical support I have drawn from him and let him off the hook, so to speak, about having to have his attention placed on me so much. I do this by taking responsibility for my own feelings - making sure that I don’t ever go to “it’s his fault I feel this way - he’s so preoccupied with his own stuff, he has no time for me.” Sure, his preoccupation may spark a reaction like that, however, this is just an opportunity to shift the blame to him instead of really looking closely at why I am feeling something that is hard to feel. So, I spend more time with me - having a friendly banter or counselling session with myself. I ask myself, with a smile, my husband’s favourite counselling question, “If you DID know what was really wrong, what do you think it might be?” It has been helpful, revealing and healing to think and process this way.

I have deliberately joined in, with interest, to my husband's measurement of daily life in Canada against the loss of everything in a hot, dry coastal town on the Gulf. I have noticed my own share of head shaking at what some people - including myself - think is important. I have been grateful to God for the good fortune of relative safety from such a tragedy.

Another thing: I have had a conversation about this dilemma with my husband. He recognizes that his head is in thoughts about the work in Pearlington and the ensuing “out of touch” time when everyone and everything is so far away. He knows about the danger of not being “present” to our life and to me. And yet, I needed - mostly for my own sake - to gently remind him that balance is the key. The times together are different because, now, we are both changed from this experience. The times when he is off in his thoughts and problem-solving space, I am able to devote to my own life and pursuits. Our coming back together is more enriched, yet there was no real separation in the first place. Just two people giving their all to their own purposes who come back to the enjoined circle that relationship is, to reconnect, to share, to give and receive support, to remember what is really important.