The Greek God(zilla) has left for a week-long work trip to Switzerland. He travels a few times a year, but the goodbyes never get easier and whether he is away for a day or two or a whole month, for the first few hours after he leaves I am an emotional mess!
It’s not that I hate him being away, as once the sadness has lifted I actually quite enjoy the quiet time. The house is tidy, I have sole custody of the remote control and sleep diagonally across the bed just because I can. I eat breakfast for dinner and drink tea by the pot(s). I go to bed early and watch Netflix tucked up under the duvet.
In some ways, it is easier with one less person to think about. Instead of looking at the bins (his job) and wondering when he is going to take them out, I just do them myself. I am loath to do this when he is home as it would soon become ‘my job’, but when he is away I am totally on top of it! I am also adept at changing light bulbs, hanging pictures and booking the car in for a service. I draw the line at lighting the barbecue – which is very much the Greek God(zilla)’s territory – because while I am very happy to reap the rewards of an afternoon spent cooking on fire, it is much less of a faff to just pop a couple of sausages under the grill.
Weirdly, I am also more on top of ‘my’ jobs when the Greek God(zilla) is away. Or maybe it just seems this way without his coat, shoes, bag and socks being casually discarded in the room they were removed. Our bed stays made and cups find their way from the side of our bed – to the sink – to the dishwasher.
Chores aside, the queue for the shower is shorter, the toilet seat is down and there is always food in the fridge. Our son misses him, but I fill in for his dad where I can. Sometimes this is watching Match of the Day together (yawn) and sometimes just rolling about on the floor. I am not as good at kicking a ball around the garden, but I’ll play a few rounds of table football.
So, it is not so bad and I enjoy the solitude because I know he will soon be home and chaos will resume.
But on the day he leaves, I am in floods of tears. It is ridiculous. I miss his booming voice calling down from our bed for a cup of tea. I miss him following me around from room to room. I miss seeing his stuff scattered all over the house. Although, I probably don’t miss these things really. I probably just miss him. For as tedious as the mechanics of a marriage can sometimes be, we are always happier together than apart.