BATCHING IT

I’ve been batching it for the last week or so.  For those of you who aren’t hip, “batching it” means living as a bachelor, as in, all by yourself.  Not that I am a bachelor in the true sense, meaning unmarried.  I am most definitely married and have been for 48 years (to the same woman).  It’s just that said woman has been lounging on the beach in Cabo San Lucas with a couple of her best friends (both girls) for the past week.  I am sure that under her beach umbrella she is monitoring the GPS tracking device she had hidden in my car.  Thank God she is due home tomorrow.

There are those who are cut out for such a life but I am not among them.  To me there is a rhythm to a happy life.  That doesn’t mean living life in a rut and doing the same things over and over but it does mean certain constants must exist for the sake of stability.  One of those is your life partner. 

I love the rhythm of our home when she is present:  The sounds of the TV shows she watches, always happy shows with happy endings, and her voice as she talks almost daily with her sisters over the phone.  I love to watch her water her flowers.  I especially enjoy sitting down to dinner and chatting about the day and what’s going on with our kids.

Then there are the other things most of us men take for granted until she isn’t there.  Like weekend breakfasts.  Almost since day one of our life together she has, rain or shine, prepared the same Saturday and Sunday breakfast.  Eggs over easy, bacon, wheat toast, orange juice and coffee.  Once in a great while she will throw in a buckwheat pancake to jazz things up a bit and call it a pan-san but not often.  Sounds easy, right?  Every time she has taken one of her outings I face the same dilemma.  I get nervous just thinking about it.  How to do eggs over easy without breaking the yolks?  The past two weekends I was a perfect 8 for 8, 8 eggs, 8 broken yolks.  I ended up, as I always do, scrambling the eggs, pretending that was my intent all along.

Then there was the shock upon learning that my laundry does not automatically jump out of our hamper, into the washer, then the dryer and then fold itself.  I even had to get dressed, in case I might be seen by a neighbor, to go out and get the morning paper.  My life partner being an early riser, always has the paper neatly spread out next to my breakfast place setting. 

Like any man worth his salt, I could eventually get the hang of these things but some I could not master given from here to eternity, mainly, just having her near.  I love to have her close or close by.  I am thrilled that she can go on her trips with her close friends but there is comfort in knowing she will be home soon.  She knows me and who I am and she radiates strength and happiness.  It will be good to have her home.