Archives

As I sit listlessly, my body is numbed by the midnight sky, gray clouds, and white snowflakes piling upon the windowsill. I hear the kids whispering down the hall and laugh to myself, because I am supposed to think they are sleeping. They really do believe they are good at this game, but Mom knows - she always knows...
I never imagined they'd be able to sleep; they rarely do on Friday nights. In my home, every Friday is like Christmas Eve when little ones toss restlessly and strain their ears for sounds of reindeer hoofs and jingle bells. My little angels, however, listen for something quite different on Friday nights: first, the slow, gruff rumbling of a Jake-Break, then for the squeaking of the screen door and, finally, for heavy footsteps across our wood floor - signs that Dad is home.

Some might find this scenario a sad one, but not me. Sad to me is the thought that there are some children out there who pray for these sounds but never hear them. Sad to me is a Dad who never comes home and children who never experience that eager giddiness awaiting the squeaks from the screen door.
I'm a trucker's wife, and they are a trucker's children. We are sad when he goes and happy when he returns. This is not a burden: it is a truth that we have come to accept as a way of life. How fortunate we are that this man works so hard for his family; how fortunate we are when he is returned safely to us. He makes us proud, and gives us a reason to look forward to Friday nights.

Sadness sometimes creeps in when, on a Monday, my son runs for 110 yards as a varsity running back and Dad is not there to see it. Perhaps I'm gloomy on a Wednesday when my daughter has a ‘hero' project to do for school, and her hero, her Dad, has to do the interview with her by phone. There are some Thursdays that I feel overwhelmed by all the responsibilities I am forced to take on as a quasi-single Mom. But...Oh those Fridays! Those beautiful Fridays! They make me smile, once again. Eagerness, numbness, anticipation, giddiness, whispering...these are all signs of love in my home.

Am I lonely? Sometimes. Am I sad? Occasionally. Am I afraid? Only of the thought of a Friday night that is NOT filled with eagerness, numbness, anticipation, giddiness, whispering, and love...THAT is what scares me most of all.

Such is the life of a Trucker's wife...

A Trucker's Wife is a column that is written by a different guest writer each month. If you would like to share your thoughts and feelings with other homefront spouses email us at imatruckerswife@layover.com .