My husband is out of work.
It’s been two and a half months now.
Every day he gets online, looks for leads, sends out resumes, fills out
applications, and waits by the phone.
Every night we pray and try to sound positive and lift each other
up.
Daily life has changed.
I go to work, he stays home.
He is here for the kids and does the grocery shopping. We still make the menu and the grocery list
together but there are always those nights when dinner gets away from us and I
have to bring home fast food. I used to
be the one calling him, “Honey, can you bring home KFC tonight?” It’s backwards now and getting to be more
so. I never wanted to be a working mom
and have this role, but I am grateful for the job and the little income it
brings in.
I’ve learned some things about myself. I’ve learned that I don’t like having to working. I love my job but I don’t like having to give
them so much of my time every single day. I miss doing the things that I used to do. I miss cleaning the house. I miss sewing and quilting and working on
projects. I miss having the time to
serve others. I miss reading. I miss having a free Saturday since it’s now
full of all the things that I have to do but couldn’t get done during the week. I’m mourning my old life.
Time is dragging and we’re looking forward to looking back
on it all. The future is a big unknown
to us. Will we be out of work long? Will we be moving this summer? How long will our savings last? Will I quit my job when he finds one? Will we be able to find a better job than
what we had or will we have to take a pay cut?
This is what bothers me the most—the big unknown.
I want someone to tell me, “Two more weeks,” or “Get the house ready to
sell.” I need a light at the end of this
tunnel.
