Many years ago, my husband was laid off from his job (we lived in NJ). After months of searching, he found a new job in Pennsylvania, and had to get an apartment so he could work while I stayed in NJ with the kids. We had to sell the house, find a new one, pack, etc. I remember it as being one of the more difficult times in my life. Ultimately, everything worked out. This post reminded me of that time and what it felt like to finally move back home.
Four months ago my wife took a new job with a national nonprofit in the Boston area. It was a fantastic opportunity. I supported her 100%. She headed north to start her job, while I worked on finding a job of my own and selling our house in Philly.
Living apart has been brutal. At first there’s the novelty of living like a bachelor again. Walking around in your underwear and eating pizza in the middle of the week gets old when you realize your underwear chafes when you’re not wearing jeans, and those pizza pounds go to your belly faster than they used to. When you get to the first weekend, the time that you used to spend with your wife, the house starts to feel empty. Philly and Boston are six hours apart, so we could only see each other once a month.
We sold our house and…
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