Time, Measured in Spices
Posted by quinncreative on May 5, 2008
Standing at the kitchen stove, cooking supper, I reached for the pepper grinder. Almost out. When I bought the jar that stored pepper as well as ground it, I was horrified at the expense. “Oh, well,” I thought, by the time I need more pepper, I’ll just use the peppercorns from the pantry.
I remember not wanting to buy large quantities of paper towels, toilet paper, detergent. I wouldn’t be in the apartment long. I refused to buy spices, as it was a waste when my husband would be joining me shortly, and I’d have my kitchen back.
So when I ground the last of the pepper tonight, I counted how long I’d been out here alone: Six months. Half a year. The house is still on the market (C’mon, St. Joeseph!), I talk to my husband on a cell phone, and I have no TV, no real furniture, and most of my art supplies are packed in boxes in the basement across the country, waiting to be moved.
I’ll admit I’ve purchased art supplies. I simply caved around month three, and have added to them since then. But the spices just did me in. I’ve ground my way through entire jar of peppercorns, waiting.
No doubt, other women have waited longer. I was one of the women who waited for a husband to come back from Vietnam. The best way to tell that story is to say that the one I’m waiting for now is not the same man I waited for then. It was a long time ago.
Day by day, I’m changing and so is he. No longer all that young, we are learning how to live apart, how to do without, how to create independent lives. None of these lessons are ones I wanted to get advanced skills in. Neither do I want to move back. I like it here.
So we are caught in time. Him there, me here, running out of spices.
–Quinn McDonald is a writer and training developer in communications topics: writing, giving presentations and dealing with the corporate culture you find yourself in. She is also a certified creativity coach. (c) 2008 All rights reserved.
May 8, 2008 at 6:53 pm
I’m sorry to hear the separation has been going on for that long. Unfortunately, I’ve been there, too, as a military spouse but hearing about others who have to ’stay and wait’ doesn’t really help, does it?
I once read my great-grandfather’s seaman’s log, which detailed his ship voyages between 1899 and 1910. It showed when he signed on as a first mate, when the ship left, and when he logged back in at the home port. I added up his time home over that ten year period and it amounted to something like eight months! Imagine my poor great-grandma with her two children all alone AND out of touch for all but a few weeks a year! On a comical note: no wonder marriages lasted so long in those days! A ten year anniversary after only eight months of actual marriage.
—And that’s why the children were so far apart, too. Being alone is certainly not as tough as being a young spouse with children waiting for a loved one who is in a war zone. As I said, I did that, too in my time. But it’s tiresome and tedious and I’ll be glad when it’s over. –Q
May 13, 2008 at 8:44 pm
Thank you for sharing Q - I feel that clutch in my heart as I read your words.