Today is Wade’s birthday; the boys and I celebrated by going out for dinner. Without him. Nothing odd about that, is there?

Anchorage, Alaska, July 2009

Wade isn’t here; he’s in the middle of nowhere in Alaska, fly fishing with his dad and some other guys. It is truly the trip of a lifetime — for at least the past decade, Wade and Bob have been talking about doing this, but always in a wouldn’t-it-be-great kind of way. On a fluke, this spring, a chance to actually go fell into their laps, and so they packed their gear and headed west.

I haven’t seen Wade since before I left for Chicago; I haven’t talked to him since Saturday, when he landed in Anchorage. He told me about his flight; I told him about Tim Gunn.  When I came home, I was tired and had people overload. I was done talking and was glad to be alone.

This week has been long, and hard. There are things a-brewing that I have needed to discuss with someone, anyone, but preferably someone with some investment in my life.  Chris, Heather, and Kristen have gotten an earful about various things, and they have been remarkable; I don’t know how I got so lucky with the girlfriends. They have listened and sympathized and strategized with me. Now if they would all just move to Oklahoma my life would be perfect.

But at the end of the day, I miss Wade. I want him to come home and listen to me dissect my problems and help me make some decisions. I want him to hear all the wacky things the kids have said (like tonight at dinner when Henry asked me, very seriously, “Mom, what do you think the most important invention ever is?” because he wanted to talk about video games. I foiled him by giving him a history lesson about Gutenberg and the printing press — take that kid!) and I want to tell him about Tim Gunn (actual text message exchange — me: Tim Gunn liked my shoes! Interview was fantastic. Wade: Congratulations!!! Good job on the shoe selection) and I want to hear about Alaska (since he has no cell phone service this week and for all I know has been eaten by a bear).

I take Wade for granted most of the time — not in a mean or neglectful way; I am always thankful for the things he does around here. I love that he empties the trash and vacuums without being asked and that he knows what kind of wine I like and can recognize when a nice dinner out is the solution to all our woes. I love that he throws himself into spending time with the boys, that he thinks so carefully about how to make their lives better. I love that he has interests that have nothing to do with me, like the fly fishing, and I love that he supports the things I care about, like this whole wacky blogging deal.

What I mean when I say I take him for granted is simply that I forget, when we’re always together, how much I love being together. At night, I sit on the sofa in the living room and write or watch television; Wade sits in the office and reads and listens to music. We wander in and out of the two rooms, talking, or we just do our own thing. But he’s always right there. I miss that this week, when it’s just me and the boys.

So happy birthday, honey. Enjoy your trip and your time in the wilderness and don’t get eaten by a bear. And please remember our deal: do not bring any fish home with you or I will file for divorce. Haha kidding! Well sort of.