It has been awhile since I typed here--this is that stage of our life where my computer is completely dead and I have no access. Truthfully, not having the exercise of typing is making me a bit crazy. I have hours of extra time a day, I've began organizing closets. This has to stop--I really really need a computer.
But today is a great day, because Jake borrowed a laptop from Corie, and he doesn't have to return it til this evening...I have a laptop at my fingertips for hours and hours. Ahhh...the joy of having my tool at my fingertips. (Because as a writer a computer is my tool, not just a luxury.)
You were just home for two weeks, and they were a pretty good two weeks--things got a little crappy when you had to have oral surgery, but the silver lining is that at least you were home and you could get it fixed, and how cool that you had the cash to pay for the procedure.
Your job has certainly changed our financial status in a positive way. We have spent more money on teeth this year than the previous 22 years combined, and it makes me feel wonderful to pay the mortgage in full and on time.
On this trip, you did an amazing job of separating home and work in North Dakota. You were here with us, taking the boys hunting, going to church, hitting some parties and hanging out on the couch watching stupid movies. You were exceptionally good at not letting your work worries invade our time together, and that was an impressive feat since your whole future became shaky ground. Will you be the new crude boss? Will your truck be sold from under you? And what about all of the options in between those two extremes--
--When I talk to you on the phone and you examine all of the possible futures, I get dizzy and I think how hard it must be to live inside of your head with all of those thoughts and concerns buzzing around.
I get the impression that I frustrate you with my lack of panic over the shaky future. It seems as though you want me to make some changes in my working status so that you don't have to worry so much about our future--you want me to share the burden.
See, here's the thing.
I am your anchor in a storm. I am the safe harbor complete with cocktails and warm soft sheets. I am your home.
Right now, my job is to be here for all of you that are running around the country making money and getting educated.
I am not worried about your ability to provide for us financially, and when the day comes that I begin to worry, I will get a job.
I can't spin on all of your possible futures, which currently seem to include everything from you living in williston and seeing us on some weekends and occasional holidays OR you coming home to live with us and do the kind of work that you used to do.
The thing is, I have no control over the decisions you are going to make. You have a set of weights and measures--and I know that your kids and I weigh really heavy. You also have your personal journey and the question of what can you do, what are you willing to do--how much of an impact can you make on the oil world?
You have big heavy worries when you are in North Dakota.
As your partner and your wife, all I can do is tell you that I pray for us all the time, that the best possible outcome will be achieved. I have faith that you will chose the best path for you, for all of us. I have faith in your decision making abilities, and I have faith that my prayers have already be answered--
And me and you are going to be fine with whichever path we are on.
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