A Supporting Wife

If ever two were one, then surely we.

If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.

If ever wife was happy in a man,

Compare with me, ye women, if you can.

I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,

Or all the riches that the East doth hold.

My love is such that rivers cannot quench,

Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.

Thy love is such I can no way repay;

The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.

Then while we live, in love let’s so persevere,

That when we live no more, we may live ever.

~ Anne Bradstreet ~ 

** I've lived a quarter of my life on one continent, a quarter on another and what I expect to be the rest of my life - the other half - on a third continent.  But... home is where the heart is, and in this case - the Machinist is my heart.  Wherever he is, - well - that is home to me.  ** 

We had only been in Australia less than two years when we started our Engineering Company.  It wasn't easy, as we had to get used to a new culture, way of life and an accent we both battled to understand.  I did some temping in and around Canberra and continued with this, while the business got on "it's feet".  Then, within the first two years of running the company with the Machinist, we had two more babies.

No more temping for me!  It was enough to tend three small children and support the Machinist in his lifelong dream of running his own Machine shop.

I became a full time housewife and mother very abruptly.  I swapped high heels for pram wheels, business suits for track suits (colour co-ordinated, of course).

There were several days in each week that we had to travel into the workshop to help in the way of sweeping, carting metal cut-offs and emptying metal shavings, cleaning bathroom and kitchen, setting up systems, banking and errands, deliver jobs to customers.  Not to mention book-keeping at home - usually at night - while the babies slept.

Three years later, we moved to the country, and shortly after that, we moved the whole operation from the city to our home block in the village.

No more travelling 120km a day!

While this has been easier in some ways, it has been more difficult in others.  Business and Private life run a fine line.  Privacy is never the same.  Over the years I have been ever conscious that

customers will be calling around our house to drop off and pick up their jobs. What will they see? Will our children be playing outside in the garden happily? Will they be behaving themselves, or will they be rowdy and in the middle of sibling conflict? Will our home always be neat and tidy and cozy if and when  the Machinist decides to bring a customer indoors for coffee?  Will I always answer the phone in an efficient manner? (will I even hear them properly - ha).  

After all, I want my husband to succeed and continue with his good reputation. Will the customers judge us for what we are doing (or not doing) as a homeschooling family.  We may, on occasion, be responsible for the receiving of goods and materials. How will these drivers see us? What will their impressions of us be?  Will we appear to be professional?  

I don't view myself as a "good" Machinist's wife, as I still don't understand technical / mechanical terms and processes.  I can't talk the talk.  I can't even get it in my head.  I still have to ask what machine he is referring to and have to "wing it" if I ever have to discuss or explain something to somebody about the machine shop.  Oftentimes, the Machinist will excitedly explain a process to me and I watch the expression on his face acknowledge the glazing of my eyes.  

On reflection of all these concerns, I realise that I could have - should have - been more relaxed and focus my time and energy on other things.  I do believe, though, that I had the right heart attitude; to support him.  It wouldn't matter what he did, I'd want him to know that I had his back.  

Oh, and I occasionally wear high shoes, but only when I know I don't have to walk far or stand in them for long periods of time.  Track suits are still colour coordinated, but of a trendier style, due to the advice of my (young adult) daughters.  And the prams I push now are those belonging to my sweet grand babies.