Home alone…

Picture of random house in California.

This is not my house.

The begin­ning of June brings two bliss­ful events into my life prac­ti­cal­ly every year:  the school year ends, and , less obvi­ous­ly, my wife leaves me.  Wait, that is not as bad as it sounds.  I love my wife.  We will have been mar­ried for 35 years on August 27th, and I’m hop­ing for anoth­er 35.  (Well, let’s be real­is­tic: 25.)

The first week after school lets out she likes to go up to Dal­las and spend some time with her mom and dad, and her sis­ter.  Now she has the added attrac­tion of Zack and Kallie and beloved grand-daugh­ter Harp­er.    Her par­ents are get­ting on in age and Karen does a mil­lion lit­tle things to help them out when she visits.

The first week after school lets out I run a ten­nis camp with my friend Kyle.  It goes from Mon­day through Thurs­day and lasts two hours each morn­ing.  So I have to be there.

I dropped Karen off at the air­port  last Mon­day at 7:30 a.m. and will pick her up this Mon­day at 10 a.m.  That means that for a full week I am at home alone!  She asked me as she got out of the car, “Will you miss me?”  I said, “Of course,” and then I drove away with a huge grin on my face.

I don’t know why the prospect of an emp­ty house is so exhil­a­rat­ing to me.  It’s not like I go crazy and indulge all the bad habits that are fes­ter­ing under my reserved demeanor.  Rou­tine stays basi­cal­ly the same…might stay up a lit­tle lat­er, might watch a lit­tle trashier TV.  If any­thing, I become more reclu­sive than I usu­al­ly am.

No, that’s not entire­ly true.  We have lived in our new house since last August, and in all that time I think we have had guests over (not count­ing fam­i­ly) one time.  I love my new house and I talk (okay, brag) about it a lot.  And peo­ple tell me they’d like to come see it.  Now, when Karen and I enter­tain, it usu­al­ly becomes a stress­ful sit­u­a­tion.  (Per­haps that’s why we don’t enter­tain much.)  Karen wants things to be just so, house has to be spic and span, etc.  I am, well, I am not like that.  So, with her gone for a week, here was my chance to ful­fill my social oblig­a­tions in a basi­cal­ly stress free envi­ron­ment.  I had three guys over for a bar­be­cue and Spurs game on Mon­day night, a group of ten­nis coach friends and I played a round of golf and bar­be­cued on Wednes­day, and my read­ing group met here on  Thurs­day evening.  For all three occa­sions I served essen­tial­ly the same menu—sausage tor­tilla or cheese­burg­er, gua­camole & chips, pota­to sal­ad (Cost­co), and fruit sal­ad.  All evi­dence of vis­i­tors was gone by Fri­day at noon.  (Well, I’m sure Karen will find evi­dence, but she has a bet­ter eye than I do.)

But no, I don’t see Karen’s being gone as a chance to par­ty.  That’s not it at all.  Truth is, I was com­plete­ly social­ized out by Fri­day morn­ing, and I don’t think I’ve spo­ken with any­one (except the three guys I played golf with this morn­ing) since.  What I love about the emp­ty house is the free­dom.    I pre­pare what­ev­er I want to eat and clean up when I’m ready.  (No, I’m not a slob, she healed me of that long ago.)  I don’t wor­ry about putting the Breathe Right strip on to muf­fle my snor­ing.  I don’t won­der if I flushed twice and put the lid down.  I fall asleep on the sofa with­out mean­ing to.  This co-habit­ing is a tricky busi­ness, and if you don’t pay atten­tion to what your co-habiter is feel­ing, you prob­a­bly won’t   co-habit for very long.

But we’ve made it 35 years, so I think we’re going to last.  And this is why:  it usu­al­ly kicks in on the fourth or fifth day—this year it was Sat­ur­day morning—but I always real­ize I want her home.  I miss her.  I have an acquain­tance whose wife died a few years back.  They were both in their fifties.  I ran into him about six months after it hap­pened, and I hadn’t heard about it.  I couldn’t believe it.  The man was dev­as­tat­ed.  He looked haggard—his loss hung on him like an alba­tross. After six months.   I’ve thought about it, and I get it.  The two shall become one.  How do you go back?

I get to pick Karen up tomor­row morn­ing.  I can’t wait to see her.  Anoth­er thing I like about the Home Alone week is that I know she will be dying to see me.  (Her fam­i­ly can get a lit­tle crazy.)  I think this week is good for our mar­riage.  In fact, I would high­ly rec­om­mend it.  When is the last time you were home alone?

Comments

  • Nice trib­ute to your wife and your mar­riage. Agreed mar­riages are strength­ened by brief separations.

    Dianne James6 July, 2013
    • thanks, diane, for read­ing. how is retire­ment treat­ing you?

      Dallin Malmgren9 July, 2013
  • First.…You two deserve a medal for not only being togeth­er that long but still lik­ing each oth­er. I am always impressed and hope­ful when I come across such love­ly rela­tion­ships. I total­ly agree about the time apart…healthy and ben­e­fi­cial for all

    Tara O'Leary29 June, 2013
  • Dallin, I love your writ­ing. I’m so hap­py that you and Karen have been togeth­er for so long. It’s a match made in heav­en. All my best. ‑Becky

    Becky25 June, 2013
    • thank you, becky! that is so sweet. i have so many fond thoughts about you. i am glad you are a for­giv­ing soul, for i fear i did you wrong.

      Dallin Malmgren26 June, 2013
    • thank you, becky, for the nice com­pli­ment. karen is real­ly excit­ed about see­ing you this upcom­ing week­end! wish i could be there too. wish you the very best, and keep reading!

      Dallin Malmgren9 July, 2013
  • Now you know why I miss those TDY’s that the mil­i­tary was so nice to orga­nize for me. I would LOVE to be alone in my house for a week! I am glad you get that treat each year.

    Leigh21 June, 2013
    • i’m gonna make you real­ly jeal­ous! she’s going to st. louis for six days in july and to see beth in los ange­les at the begin­ning of august. maybe i should come stay w/ bob and you can have my house for one of those times. (hey, that’s just a joke!)

      Dallin Malmgren21 June, 2013
  • I haven’t been mar­ried near­ly as long as you have but I total­ly agree with you on this one. Being away from each oth­er gives you a chance to real­ize how much you miss the oth­er per­son. and that’s a good thing.

    Lauren Rollins18 June, 2012

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