When our children were small, they were riding in the car with a friend and when he passed the airport, he pointed to it and proclaimed "Look! That's where your daddy works!" Our youngest, in her matter of fact way, replied "my daddy doesn't work. He's a pilot ." Just one of the misconceptions people have about my husbands career.
I find it amazing what some people have always thought our life was like. Some reactions have been entertaining, some have elicited eye rolls, and a couple really hurt.
But the time has come when I can actually tell some true stories.
She had several helpful things to say but 3 points really stuck with me:
1. "Your husband is going to be flying multi million dollar, sophisticated aircraft. So keep things happy when you send him off." (In other words, save your drama for another time.) I thought this was good advice and always sought to follow it. That was easy because I've always been short on drama, and it actually became automatic for me.
2. "No one really wants to know who you are. Leave the schedulers alone." Not all of the pilots at my husbands first duty station would go on to experience careers that included long absences, but that's what we ended up doing. And I had a number I could call to ask the schedulers where he was. I used it very sparingly thanks to this bit of advice and many didn't even know I existed.
3. Her last bit of advice was a defining moment for me and I kept it religiously for over 43 years. "When your husband is gone, those who need to know WILL know. You don't need to blab when you're alone. This one is for your own safety."
And so most people never knew just how much he was gone. I remember a conversation with his parents about 30 years into his career and they were actually taken by surprise when I did the math for them. They knew he travelled and was gone, but I don't think they really ever put together just how much.
An average of 18 days a month quickly adds up to years and then decades of absence. We've been married nearly 44 years and he just retired a couple of months ago. With the exception of a couple of years in management that kept him home a little more, the 18 day schedule was typical and it adds up.
Sometimes training kept him away for much longer. When we got to our second duty station, I moved us, set up housekeeping and got a job while he went through training in another state. The neighbor kids thought he was my brother when he finally came home. "You ain't married!"
The people I worked with even thought I was making him up. I think they were relieved when he finally showed his face.
Over the decades, he's done different types of flying, but the schedule was always similar and my behavior never changed. I never felt the need to talk about him being gone. It was just a part of our family life. I never questioned it and never made a big deal about it. He loved to fly, and I loved him. So that was what our life looked like.
Because of that, most people had no idea when the kids and I were solo. Over the years I learned a lot about basic home maintenance and the like so rarely had to ask for help.
I've already told the story of his flying career from his perspective while I went along for the ride. Now that he's home every night and I'm no longer alone for long periods, I feel free to tell the story from my perspective. Some of the things we experienced at the courtesy of his flying schedule were rather funny. Others were heartbreaking.
As a family, we traveled. A lot. And for free! The airline portion of his career afforded us the opportunity to see and do some pretty cool things. When he began the last portion of his flying career and left the airline business after 20 years, my biggest concern was how I'd fly because I knew I'd lose my flying privileges. No worries. We've managed. I just don't fly as much or as cheaply!
But whether he was flying in the military, airlines or corporate, Murphy's Law ALWAYS applied when he was gone. Washer decides to walk down the drive during the spin cycle? Yeah. he's gone. Water main breaks? He's gone. Weddings? Birthdays? Broken sprinkler system? Yup. Gone. Dryer fire? He missed that. Threatening phone messages? That was a weird one that he missed.
Car trouble? ER visits? Accidents? Going into labor? Yup. He was gone, but miracle of miracles, made it home by the time our daughter came!
Holidays? The only time I actually cried when he left was on a Christmas morning. He had flown Christmas's before, but the kids were home. This time it was just me. That was tough.
Anniversaries? I think he missed more of those than he made!
I learned early on to be strong and take it in stride when he was gone. I knew he was going to fly when we got married, but I had never flown before meeting him, and I had no idea what it would actually be like. So I understand when people really don't get it.
One man expressed condolences when he found out how much my husband was gone. That was so sweet of him. From him I learned that many people assumed my husband was home every night and just flew days. Uh... nope.
A woman actually got really angry at me when I assured her that I understood what her children were going through being separated from their spouses by their work. We had known each other for years but apparently, it never occurred to her just how much the kids and I were alone. That one hurt.
Another woman got pretty critical when she learned we travelled separately. Not sure how else we could do it when that was my husbands job.
Most of our experiences while my husband flew came with the ability to laugh them off. Humor helped us survive his schedule. But there were those times of crushing grief that just had to be survived.
He wasn't able to be with me when my dad died. I had extended family there, but I missed my person. He was also flying when my mom reached the end of her life.
But by far, the most painful experience at the hands of his flying schedule came in the first few years of marriage. Shortly after Christmas 1981 he took off and within a couple of days, we lost our first child. Coming to terms with that by myself was how I spent New Years.
Looking back, I probably should have called his commander, but I was in such a fog, I just waited until he came home to tell him. There were no cell phones or computers, and when I called the squadron on occasion to ask where he was they talked a big talk but truth be told, had no idea typically.
So while he was on the other side of the globe, I walked one of the hardest paths I've ever walked, and told him about it 10 days later. I was 10 days into my grief. His just started.
His career was hard on him too. All of those broken things, missed celebrations and losses? He was alone too, in some hotel or military Q. He didn't like me having to field the challenges alone any better than I did. But I had to learn to trust him from the get and he had to trust me too.
So... why am I telling my story? Because it's my blog and I can. I waited for a long time to tell what it's really like. If you landed here and stayed until the end, now you know.
Do I regret spending my life this way? Absolutely not. Aviation equipped and strengthened me in a way nothing else could have and whether people knew I was alone or not, I still learned my lessons and became better for them.
I have to laugh when I hear about the glamorous lifestyle people think we must live. Being married to a pilot is fun and hard, enriching and draining, interesting and sometimes mind numbingly boring, unique and nothing like what most people think. It's airplane decor everywhere, lots of airshows, learning pilot jargon and how to identify different "equipment", clothes that smell of airplane exhaust and stale air, unpredictable schedules, and never knowing when he'll be home so being unable to commit to anything because of it.
I was a diligent student. I am able to say with complete confidence that these are two very different cockpits.
We lived a schizophrenic lifestyle because I couldn't possibly function the same when he was gone as I did when he was home. Our children just assumed everyone had a mommy world and a daddy world.
I've also found myself answering the same questions over and over:
"Yes my husband is a pilot. No I don't know where he is. Yes, he's flying. No I don't know when he'll be home. Yes, he's real. No I didn't make him up. Yes I iron his shirts. No I don't have a maid..." and they go on and on.
I finally bought a Tshirt!
Even with the hard times, I thank the Lord for the gift of taking this ride with my husband. I can't imagine doing life any other way.
Now you know.
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Who are these who fly like a cloud
And like the doves to their windows?
Isaiah 60:8
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine
Within your house,
Your children like olive plants
Around your table.
Psalm 128:3
For my husband is not at home;
He has gone on a long journey.
Prov. 7:19
