Have you ever not been able to get in touch with someone? Wives, maybe it was your husband? And then maybe you immediately thought he was dead? I think you see where this story is going.
As you know, I’m working storm, so JRB and I are living separately and have been since Tuesday. Now, I love my sweet, dear husband. He is wonderful in many ways, but long-distance communication isn’t one of them. He can talk to you face-to-face all day, every day. But asking him to call and text you regularly is about like asking your dog to do chores. It’s cute and sweet, but not entirely effective. That being said, he had been doing a good job. That is, up until today.
I didn’t hear from him. Not all night (or so I thought- keep reading) and not all day (This was lunch). I called. And I called. And I called. Then I texted. And texted. And then I sent a mean text. (Yes, I admit it. I did this. No, I don’t do it often, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and if anything will elicit a response, it’s a not- nice text message.) Still nothing.
So I did what any logical wife would do- I pried. Has he sent emails today? Nope. Social media activity? Nope.
Then I began to assemble the search committee. People who saw him last night. What time did he leave? Was he fine? Who had he talked to today? The answer: NOBODY. Not his brother, best friends, my mom (he doesn’t speak to her daily, but he was dropping the pups off at my parents’ house so it was worth a shot.), and definitely not ME.
At this point, I’m not angry or annoyed. I am scared to death. Yes, JRB is healthy, but healthy people die all the time right? This is where my creativity and imagination did some serious damage to my psyche. Various ideas of how JRB had died:
- He was doing stuff around the house. Something fell on him, and no one was there to call 9-1-1.
- He was in a wreck coming home
- He was in a wreck leaving
- Someone broke in and JRB, being the strong and armed man that he is, put up a great fight, but came up short in his battle against the mean, mean man who would break into our house.
As I’m trying to convince my CRAZY self, I also am forcefully shoving Welch’s Fruit Snacks into my mouth (I’m a stress eater) and hiding behind my Wayfarers because I CANNOT let these linemen (or my boss) see me cry when there is a next to nothing chance that my husband is, in fact, dead.
Thankfully, JRB and I have AWESOME and brave friends who won’t mind using their lunch break to drive to our house. I felt like I was on Cheaters, only I knew that JRB is more likely to be dead than to cheat- a good characteristic if you ask me. Here’s the play-by-play:
Amy:(pulls up to our house) His car is here. I’m knocking on the door.
Me: If he doesn’t answer. Go to our bedroom window. (explains which window it is)
Amy: He’s alive! Just had his phone across the house 🙂
Me: Good gracious. Scold him for me!!!
Amy: I’ll let you hand that. On the way over here I prayed that this would just be an embarrassing story. Glad that’s what we got!
Oh, how I’m thankful of bold friendships, prayer, and that this is an embarrassing story about my imagination and JRB’s cluelessness.
P.S. I thought I hadn’t talked to JRB since 8:30 last night. Once I “scolded” him aka tried not to cry of relief and tell him not to ever scare me like that again and by george keep your phone with you at. all. times. I realized that he had actually called me when he got home last night. Whoops! I guess I would have messed up the investigation.