James Bond or Gasping Fish

Michael flew out to Miami on Monday, on his way to Haiti to do an advanced needs assessment for Mission to the World's disaster response team and a pastor in Haiti following the three storms and hurricanes that recently hit. I envision his work as a kind of James Bond version of ministry - fly in, drive around, assess, do crisis debriefing, escape impending danger, hunker down in a compound, make plans for future teams, fly out (Michael would probably beg to differ what with all the dirt, low-tech sleeping quarters, and lack of martinis, but it's my blog and there is no shortage of rum).

Our preparations for him leaving are not nearly so well coordinated nor suave. Actually, I think we pretty much look like two fish who've jumped ashore and are gasping for breath as he gets documents in order, packs, shops, checks his Blackberry, repacks, takes out stuff, repacks, attends to last minute work, checks his Blackberry, repacks, grabs a sandwich, runs out for something he forgot after checking his Blackberry, repacks; and I play with kids, help Michael pack, get the house in some kind of order (last minute before I'm the only parent), help Michael pack, make a meal, play with kids, help Michael repack, put kids down for a nap, schedule the drive to the airport, make a meal, clean up from packing, run to the store for something Michael forgot, and help Michael repack, breath, breath, breath (you might get the idea that when you're going to a really poor country following a disaster that your gear is kind of important).

My friend, Shari, asked me if I was stressed while Michael is away. For the most part, all of the stress is piled up before he leaves as both our anxieties are high about him getting everything together (patience is incredibly short, but we did quite well this time with only one or two tearful outbursts from me and one frustration outburst from him), me getting things in order at home, saying goodbye, me battling old trauma points and trying not to nag too much about him doing his own debriefing when he returns.

I woke up the day after Michael left with sore shoulders - I usually hold my stress there, but they felt like I'd been lifting weights (yeah, no kidding, a big ol' stress ball o' weight). Michael gets into work mode while he's gone, and phone calls are brief check-ins (notifications that he's still alive). I get my game face on at home. There's not much stress once he leaves, and, really, when it comes down to it, I think it's pretty damn amazing that he gets to do this kind of work and that I get to be the home support (although, you know, I really do have big dreams of going on one of these trips).