Eighteen years have flown away

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Eighteen years ago my hubby had just finished getting his Master's in adult education and he'd finished interning as a drug and alcohol counselor. I was busy caring for seniors in their homes. My daughter was starting to live in the university dorms. We lived a couple of blocks from the inland sea in a tiny beat up shack. We drove a jalopy that died every year and needed to be replaced. We just barely made it; pay check to pay check. My Mom was younger then and there were lovely times of hiking and exploring cause that country is green. So we went on, hubby applying to places that called for a Master's Degree and getting no where. He finally asked why the state register was not taking his resumes seriously. The answer: he did not have a driver's license. (He can't see so he for sure does not have a driver's license.) He complained to the governor about discrimination and within weeks in came the call: we need a social worker over here across the mountains. Want a job? Just that sudden my life changed. Just that sudden hubby prepared to live in an apartment a mountain range from me. Having him gone from me about broke me in two; I guess that is what love is. Not being able to live without the person. Or is it dependency? Anyway, for a while I stayed put and cared for our animals and slowly broke the news to my boss that I would no longer be working with seniors. She kept clinging to me and I kept saying I AM leaving. Eighteen years. What a difference our life is. I am grateful even as I long for my homeland. Thanks for listening to this crazy quilt tale.