Forgotten

At least Tracy had toys in the nursery when Mom left my youngest sister at church that time when we were little.

Today my husband forgot we were carpooling and left me at work.  Soon after 5 when I went looking for him it didn’t take me long to realize he simply forgot me.  The only other co-workers who live even remotely close to us whom I could ask for a ride home were either gone or had dinner plans close to the office.  Sighing, I called my husband’s cell phone.

When he answered I asked where he was.  “Uhm, I’m coming back from getting my tire checked,” he said.  “Are you close to the office?” I asked.  He hesitated.  “I’ll call you when I’m close,” he replied and hung up as I was asking where exactly he was.  I knew immediately he had forgotten me and wasn’t about to admit it.

Replacing the handset I sat at my desk for a few moments as I considered my options.  We had been in all day meetings and corporate dinners for two days and I had plenty of work to do.  But I didn’t want to start on any of it if he was just a few minutes away.  If he wasn’t I was only going to get more frustrated by the minute not knowing how long I would have to wait.

Lemonade out of lemons, I decided, foraging in my wardrobe for a pair of walking shoes.  Yes!  Rummaging in my bag for a hair clip I scored again.  Heels off, hair up, I grabbed my purse and set out to put my wait to good use by taking my walk.  Outside the weather was nice and as I moved along the parking lot I began to feel pretty good about how I was handling this little change in plans. 

I had logged 25 minutes when my phone rang.  “I’m here,” he said.  “I’m walking, be right there,” I said, pressing the End button as he began to ask where I was.  I had waited half an hour, he could sit for the additional two minutes it would take me to get back to the office.

As I got into his truck I mentally prepared my gracious acceptance of his apology.  I was sure he felt bad enough about leaving me and keeping me waiting, there was no reason to be unkind.  I climbed into the passenger seat and waited.

“At least you got your walk in,” he said.  Then we drove off.  

No apology.  No “gee, I’m sorry about all this.”  No need for my acceptance speech.  I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.  He is a great guy, but the words “I’m sorry” don’t come easily to him.  As we made our way through traffic he tried to start up work conversation a few times, but I just couldn’t get interested in talking to him.  Finally he turned on the radio.  As always when I need a way to process my emotions,  a blog was quickly coming to me and I started tapping on the screen of my smart phone.

By the time we pulled into our driveway I was almost finished writing.  He got out of the truck wordlessly, pulled the trash cans into the garage, and entered the house.  All the clichés came to mind – “All’s well that ends well”, “It’s no big deal”, “a hundred years from now you won’t even remember it”.   And at least I didn’t have to bring in the trash cans, only the mail and our meeting luggage from the truck.  I recalled my devotional from just this morning.  Galatians, 5, Fruit of the Spirit.  Just another opportunity to practice love, joy, peace, patience, and longsuffering.

Yes, there was a little fruit of the spirit in me, but mainly I was glad to have my blog.  It served me well 4 years ago when it was born out of the Duke Disaster, and it serves me well now,  funneling my feelings and saving me ammunition.