There's something that eats away at me slowly when I see my wife prepare for work or see her off to work. Little by little, this slowly eats away at something within my being. I can't seem to find it but am sure that it's up here some where.
There have been times when I've wept as I have seen her drive the Dodge down our cul-de-sac.
Sir Dude, gave this a name on out visit Thursday. Seems to have slipped my mind for now. I do remember "remorse" being a piece of what Sir Dude called it. Whatever it is called it hurts to the core. A grown ass man watching his wife drive off to work while the grown ass man stays at home. To task. Minor tasks at that, or garden. I do what I can for our home., for Botswana, my dear wife and our three hounds and two turtles.
I hate to bring up the 'normal' stuff again, but wouldn't I say that it's not normal when a Man remains at home while Mama goes work and busts her ass doing it. Working hard for her money. One next thing I say is this, if a man find his grown ass in a place similar to this and do nothing, well, the man is a lazy man. I keep self and mind busy when I have good strong days. I push and push many times to please the one who works. Yes, I receive pay. It is government pay for the one who has misfortune of becoming disabled. Such as I. I attempt to quantify my work by tasking. I task to make and keep tidy the Lodge and surrounding yards and gardens...
...but, you see, I am not so normal. I am cut from the fabric of One works hard for One's Kinfolk. I have been a tax paying citizen of this nation since 1973. Throughout my work carrier I remained in a managerial roll, throughout my life I hoped and prayed for good work. The money comes from the hard work. You see. There were times in the lives of my children I worked two jobs and facilitated two support groups. I am the working class. We, my Kindred, are the Working Class.
I thank my God, everyday for this Woman. Everyday I am reminded of how blessed I am. Seen.
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