Here we go again.
by Jennifer Schnittker
A Response to the Letter "From the Truck"
In March of this year, Keith called me with some unbearable news (or so he thought!) He announced that he had been laid off. He was extremely disappointed, but me?!?! I was of course ecstatic, I wanted to throw a party, and dance in the streets, but of course I could not tell him that! "Yes, 6 months with my husband at home with me."
Hey, in every drives wife there is some closeted hostility towards the job.
So on we went, remodeling the house, re-landscaping our yard. All the "honey-to-do's" that did not get done when he was gone, and I could simply not do by myself.
I ate up the time like a child in a candy shop getting her sugar rush. Loving each and every moment of the time home with Keith. I felt like a new woman, never taking for granted one moment that I had with him
(For those that don't know myself or Keith, we have a wonderful marriage in which we can spend 24/7 and never mince words)
The time came at 4 months into his lay off, that it was time to consider another employment oppertunity. With the industry the way it was, we fully expected that it would take a few months to find gainful employment.
Keith began looking for a job, and with in 2 days, found one.
"I got this."--or so I thought. I foolishly believed that being a truck drivers wife was much like riding a bike, and something you could pick right back up, and go on with.
WRONG! When he got the news last week- I was ok for a few days. Until Thursday hit. I began thinking about being alone again. Oh god, how am I going to do this I thought. I pondered on it long enough, that I had to excuse myself to go to the ladies room---and, yep that's right, cry my eyes out. "I don't want to do this again." I disappeared for too long I suppose. Keith was knocking on the door "Are you ok Angel?" He asked. Of course, through my sniffles I managed to mutter- "Yes, I am fine, I will be out in a minute."
Drying my eyes, I walked out to the computer, and sat down, trying not to look at Keith, sitting just a few feet away. But, despite my efforts, he was well aware of what I was feeling. He came over to my computer, and knelt down, looking up at me was all it took, and the tears began again.
"I dont want to be alone again." was all I could mutter. Tears began to fill his eyes as well. The pain that was twisting my heart, was twisting his as well.
I guess I foolishly thought that it was going to be easy for him as well.
He informed me that it was not something he "wanted to do, but something he had to do."
The week-end came and went before I knew it. Trying to be positive lasted until it was time for him to go.
Sunday night came, it was time for him to go. He only had to go a few hours away for training with his new company PGT.- "Where is your strength" I kept repeating to myself.
When the bags where packed I was in the kitchen, giving myself the prep talk I felt would get me through this. WRONG again!
He walked into the kitchen, and put his arms around me, When I looked in his eyes through my tears, I noticed they were in his eyes as well.
"Why does this have to be such hell?" I said aloud. I knew the answer. Despite the "misconception" about truck drivers being cold, and uncommitted. They are not! They are men that truly love their families, and hate to leave them as much as we hate them to leave.
Monday was a bit rough, it was the first day (again) of the rest of my life. I found myself crying intermittently, every time I heard his voice, I wanted to beg him to come home, beg him to not do this to me again. But I didn't. I kept my composure.
Tuesday, yet another day from hell- God, How am I going to do this, do I still have what it takes?
Wednesday, it was like a ton of bricks that hit me. HELLO JEN--POSITIVE THINKING GIRLFRIEND. Sooo began the "I am ok, You are Ok" belief.
Thursday (Today) has been much better- I spent time being me--the proactive, positive thinking woman that I am. I found tag's online, and a very cute poem from "The Truck", after reading this. I decided I was going to write my own.
Letter to a Truckers Wife
Its time we had a talk about the one you call your man
I Know how much you love him, but I'll steal him if I can
You know even when he's with you thoughts of me are in his head
But then I have heard him call your name when he is in my bed
He calls me his baby and holds me so tight
He whispers secrets to me as we travel through the night
He buys me lots of little things he loves me to shine
I take him places that you cant in my bid to make him mine
Dont try to use your children, you see they like me too
But even when they are with me, I know they are missing you
I realize you love him, and I wish you lots of luck
Just remember he is almost mine
--Sincerely signed "The Truck"
I got such a kick out of this, that I wrote one back to the truck--lol go figure right..
It is added as the picture for this story.
In the end, something so simple caused me to start thinking positively, being proactive again has pulled me out of the muck of my own depression..
Despite it all. The lesson I learned was this. They don't want to leave any more than we want them to leave. My own self pity was truly the cause of my depression, not some alternative universe that I was warped into despite what I wanted.
I love my "driver", and what ever it takes, I will stand strong, and keep the homestead running!
Hope you enjoy my poem back to the truck- The homewrecking, steal and rubber mistress of the night- Rofl ;) (Hey all of us drivers wives feel that way, I am just the first to voice it on here!)