I am a hunting widow.
I hate the term, just because it’s become so cliche’. The facts of the situation make the term surprisingly realistic sometimes, though. If I was a single working woman I’m guessing it wouldn’t be as striking of a difference to be home alone for certain periods of time while he pursued his hobby. But, I’m not. I’m a stay-at-home mother of four. Sometimes he feels like my only connection to the outside world!
Messed up. I know.
There are days when it’s nice to have some time to myself. I can count on the weekends in the fall being to myself. I can see the movies I want to see without wondering about what he would want.
Most days are a little more difficult than that though.
The boys are beginning to get old enough to go along with him for the small game hunting. But the months of November will still be me and the kids alone.
It gets long.
You begin to feel desperate.
And for an introverted personality like mine you pull further into yourself the more emotionally unstable you feel.
Probably times when you need other people. Probably months when I should be relying on friends.
But I don’t.
I’m not alone though. He comes home every night these days, except for the hunting weekends. I have that going for me. It’s better than the old days.
This season will be the same as others. I will hold on to the hope that I will see more of the pros than the cons this year.
And next year I will make plans. There’s always next year.