“Your husband lives where?”
“Memphis” I say for the second time. This conversation has occurred no less than 100 times in the past two years in a variety of social and professional environments. Yes, I live and work in Kansas City. Our house is here and the nearly grown and flown kids still appear for the occasional dinner and weekend breakfast.
The eight hour drive and nearly the same amount of time for air travel to journey around half the U.S. before does present more than your normal commute home. It’s so important the kids have a home base and remain in their comfort zone of friends and favorite hangouts. The youngest in our group of four is graduating from high school this year and we have started to peek into the future of options.
When others look at me like I’m crazy and ask “Your husband lives where?”, I almost always laugh a little. It’s our normal. Flat Bob comes into my living room each night and listens to me talk about the day or watches me do dishes. It may seem crazy to some. Ok, to most. And we talk nearly every day about how and when we will be in the same home. For now it’s the 48 hour window of time that closes all to quickly each and every weekend and the consistent glow of a screen on weeknights.