Fellowship amidst perpetual separation

I have to admit I've been in a bit of a funk since A. left last Tuesday morning. Sure, a lot of that has also been that I've had a nasty chest cold and something eating away at my stomach -- though, in Chinese medicine, the lungs are the organ associated with grief and the large intestine is paired with the lungs so it may be a case of the my grief and my cold feeding off each other.

Nonetheless, I don't think I'd adequately mentally prepared for him to leave this time. Normally I start thinking about it three weeks or so ahead of him leaving. This time it just sort of happened. One day he was here and the next he was gone -- for three whole months.

But tonight...er, this morning, I was reminded of how it could always be worse. First I happened to stop over at Raising Yousef, where Laila is showing off pictures of her adorable baby girl being kissed by her father, who lives in the US while Laila lives in Gaza because he, as a Palestinian, is not allowed to return to his home. Then I visited Jews Sans Frontiers where Levi had a story about a Palestinian who had been living falsely as a Jewish Israeli in order to live with his Israeli wife and four children because Palestinians from the Territories are not allowed to live in Israel proper. Not to mention at any given time there are over 10,000 Palestinians being held in Israeli prisons, many of whom have not been charged and are being held indefinitely.

Of course, it's not just Palestinians who are dealing with perpetual separation from their loved ones. Many U.S. soldiers have been serving in Iraq and Afghanistan for up to five years with very little time home. And there are always political prisoners, or even criminals in prison who are away from their families for years at a time.

A. and I talk on the phone every day. We spend our allocated 90 days (or just shy of that) together every three months or so. And though it may still be a few years -- God forbid! -- until we're able to be together permanently, we know that at some point the constant 90-day mandated separations will end. For a lot of people, there are no daily phone calls. No three month visits. No end in sight.

It doesn't mean my grieving is any less valid. It sucks watching my lover leave, knowing we won't be cuddling again for several months. But I guess knowing that I'm not alone makes my grief just a little easier to bear, as well as allows me to appreciate the pain a lot of people all over this country and planet are feeling at this same moment.