Wish He Were Here

I’ve always known that I could handle whatever comes my way — well, almost always — but I’ve discovered that I preferred it when I had the help and support of a spouse.  Dealing with a flood in my place after the upstairs neighbor’s diswasher hose popped is not fun.  Neither is living with 5 heavy duty fans and 3 industrial strength de-humidifiers for 5 days.  When I tried to read the newspaper at the kitchen table this morning it was like trying to read it at the beach with a 20 mph wind blowing.  The guy who installed it all said it would be like having an indoor hurricane — I thought he was exaggerating!  As I open packages (food), I have to hold down the wrap or the small pieces or they blow all over the kitchen.  Good grief!  Yes, maybe it is good grief — I miss having Joe here to talk with, to problem solve with, to help, just to have him nearby.   I wish he were here, and an incident like this intensifies that wish, but I am getting used to dealing with things by myself  — don’t like it, but I can do it.