crying for two

For the past couple of weeks, we've been hearing rumblings of "budget constraints" and "work force reduction." When my husband came home on Monday with news that the inevitable would take place over the next week, it began to hit me for the first time.

So when I kissed my husband good-bye yesterday morning, I didn't know if he'd come home with a job or not. Even so, he turned before he got in the car, smiled and waved at me optimistically... and then he was gone.

I went about my business trying not to think about what could happen. But when I heard the song I had chosen for his ring tone in the late afternoon, my heart sank.

I answered as cheerfully as I could and asked how he was doing. "OK," he responded before breaking the news to me. It wasn't long before I couldn't hold back the flood of tears anymore.

When we hung up, I braced myself against the desk and cried. Pain. Disappointment. Fear. Shame. Pride. Anger. Helplessness. The worst part was not the lack of job security but the fact that I wasn't there to hold him and comfort him when it happened.

That night, I sat on the bed playing my guitar while my husband answered a couple calls from family and friends. I was fine till they asked how I was holding up. I tried to grin bravely, while tears splashed off my face and onto the guitar.

Seventeen months ago, I made a vow to love this man for richer or poorer, for better or worse. I didn't know then how it might feel or how soon I'd experience it or what it would look like. Today, it means crying for the two of us.