day 519, here we go again...

Sigh.  I was feeling so good and hopeful for almost a week.  I'm grateful that I had that, because I had been worrying that I no longer remembered how to experience joy.

For two months, my husband has been working for a security company.  Early last week, he made a mistake.  The security camera that was on him provided evidence of the mistake.  He was suspended, and yesterday we found out that he'd lost his job.  This time it wasn't the economy; it was poor judgment.

So here we go again, another job loss, another round of unemployment.  At Christmas time.  During my end-of-semester stress.  I feel weary, and I feel numb.  I'm surprised that I'm not feeling angry, because I worry that it means I've lost hope.

It would be different if there were any way we could make it on my salary.  If we could cover house payment and basic bills and groceries, it would be okay.  But we can't, so it isn't.  We haven't even bought a single Christmas gift.

So I have to figure out how to handle it this time around.  He has only about a month of unemployment benefits, so I think he will be job searching a bit differently than last time around.  Oddly enough, although the new location he was about to be promoted to would pay a bit more than unemployment, his actual job didn't--so once unemployment benefits start to kick in (3 whole weeks--grr), we won't be any worse off than we are right this moment.

During the past two months, I've had a chance to reflect on my own experiences throughout the unemployment jungle.  I've realized that I've started to become a bitter woman.  When I watch TV or listen to colleagues talk about all the Christmas shopping they're doing, I find myself thinking things like "stop bragging," "you have no idea what it's like out here so stop talking about the economy wearing your designer clothes," or "you have no right to complain about your husband who won't wash dishes but provides for your family financially."  Every time, I catch myself and try to regain perspective.  I told my mom yesterday that my biggest fear is that I will change irreversibly and that I'll become someone I don't want to be.

And what do I need?  I have no idea.  Right now, I need to get through grading.  I need for my husband to stop thinking he needs to be strong for me and be strong for himself.  He's so worried about me sliding into a depression, and he doesn't realize that the thing that keeps me afloat is feeling understood and shared.  I can't have him trying to put on a brave front, and I need to be able to express my fears and concerns without thinking he has to fix everything.

It's interesting.  I do generally feel okay, even while I feel worn down.  Naturally I'm worried about him finding another job before unemployment runs out, but financially, we won't be any worse off than we have been for a while.  And my sweet, sweet son who started a new job last week came home from hanging out with his friends and said, "If you need anything, I'll help out."  We've raised a good young man.

I'm on the verge of tears, not because I'm afraid as much as that I'm just feeling worn out and tired of dealing with this stuff.

So here we go again.....

2 cars in the garage

When I saw two cars parked in my garage today, tears came to my eyes.

This may seem silly.  In fact, two years ago, I would have rolled my eyes at myself.  Today, though, I am sure it is a good sign.

In April 2009 when my son totaled our family vehicle and my husband lost his job within two days of each other, the world came to a sudden halt.  It launched a period of numbness for me.  I don't know that I will ever be able to articulate what that time was like.  We experienced what seemed like a series of losses or burdens, one after another after another.  At times it was relentless.  We would be reeling from one piece of news or difficult decision and then be smacked down by another one.  Every time something would happen, I would find myself thinking, "Okay, and what's next?"  And there would always be something.

Throughout this whole time, we had only one vehicle--and it wasn't even one that could comfortably fit our entire family.  The few trips we made with all five of us were horrible, with all of us having cramped legs and squished shoulders.  I thought about all the times I'd not bothered to be grateful for having had a vehicle that we could all enjoy being in.  Since my husband wasn't working, it usually wasn't a problem to have just one vehicle, even though it was an inconvenience.  In the back of my mind, though, I was concerned about what would happen if he was offered a job that wasn't close by.  How would we manage?  What if he had a job that took him away at times that didn't work for the rest of the family?  I tried to think of that as a detail, but I often wondered how would we handle that even while praying for a job to come along so we could have that problem.

This spring saw a major financial decision that was very, very difficult for us even while it led to some relief.  While we were still coming to terms with what that decision would mean for our lives, the spring on our garage door broke.  This was one of those huge, huge springs that can kill people who try to install it on their own.  So, on top of the fact that we had only one car, we were no longer able to pull it into our garage because we couldn't open the door.

So while our garage became a good place to store some boxes of various odds and ends, we parked our sole car in the driveway all summer.  Every time I opened the door or drove somewhere, the lone car in the driveway reminded me that there was yet one more thing we couldn't afford to take care of.  It became a symbol of all that we had lost--my husband's job, a major source of income, a comfortable vehicle, the ability to park privately and not advertise our presence or absence to the neighborhood.  I came to hate that car so much, and I detested seeing it in the driveway.

Then one day I got a message from a friend at work who wanted me to call her.  She needed to get rid of her van and wanted to offer it to me before she tried to sell it to anyone else.  It's older and pretty bare-bones, but the price was right and it felt right to take her up on her offer.

The day we took possession, we all piled into the van and drove around a little bit.  It felt so incredible to be to riding somewhere with my family and be comfortable.  I was so grateful.  Instead of feeling the loss of an SUV with creature comforts that included heated seats and a DVD player, I was able to feel thankful.  (Okay, when I got in the cold van today to pick my son up, I really missed the heated seats.)

Every day when we had two vehicles in the driveway, I was still reminded of the fact that we couldn't afford to fix the garage door and that our presence at home was for public knowledge.  Still, I was constantly grateful that we once again had two vehicles.  My husband could be gone and I could still go to the grocery store.  I could go to work and he could run errands.  I felt so free!

And then, after seventeen months of unemployment, he got a job.  And because we already had two vehicles, we were not in a situation to have to wonder how to handle the transportation.  Finally--something we actually did NOT have to worry about!  Woo-hoo!

A few weeks ago, were finally able to get the garage door spring replaced.  And finally, the car could park in the garage.  We still had some boxes out there and we don't yet have a garage door control to put in the van, so we weren't in a rush.  But last night it snowed, and today my daughter was bored.  While I was driving to pick up her brother from a lock-in, she moved the boxes and put the garbage and recycling containers where we used to keep them, back when life was normal, and when I came home, the garage door was open and welcoming and I drove right in.

When my husband came home from work, he, too, pulled into the garage.  It has been a good week for us.  He found out this week that he has been offered the change to move to a different work location--one that pays just a bit more and that gives him normal weekends.  So today was his last Saturday.  And I found out that some consultant work I do will provide me with some additional responsibilities that come with more compensation than I have been making.  This doesn't fix everything.  We still have financial challenges and will for a while.  But this will allow me to breathe just a bit more easily.

I had tears in my eyes looking at our two vehicles--yes, I'm still grateful that we have two--parked in our garage, right where they belonged.  It is sign, a symbol, that something in life is normal again--or at least that we're headed in that direction.