busy. Heidi has seemed—well, mostly she seems lonely. I know that it was a big deal for her to move from Massachusetts, since that’s where she grew up. But that’s what you do when you marry, right? You create one life, and that one life goes wherever it is destined to go. I don’t ascribe to this whole “man-of-the-house” bit. But Heidi knew what she was getting into when we married. At least that’s what she told me. She told me that she’d be content being a pastor’s wife. Yet lately, I feel there’s been little contentment in her life.
Yet it’s only been six weeks. She’s still getting adjusted to the new house, the new neighborhood, the new everything. She’ll be fine, I know she will be. We both want to start a family soon. Heidi reminds me that I need to be in the same house and the same room in order for that to happen.
I guess things take time, and I know that I’m impatient when it comes to life.
Thank you again for your wonderful wedding gift. And for calling.
I will end this letter because it is late and I’m still at the church office. Writing about Heidi has reminded me that I need to probably get home. Chances are she will be asleep, and she is not one who likes being awakened. It’s so interesting how different personalities end up coming together. Lately, I’ve been finding that I’ve been sleeping less and less. I guess it’s just because I’m so excited by the new job and new possibilities.
All the best and look forward to talking with you again soon.
Jeremiah
May 18, 1997
Dear Dr. Barlow:
I can assure you that things are fine here. I understand the issues you brought up in our last conversation. I know that Heidi doesn’t fully understand my priorities and my mission. I’m giving her time. In the end I believe she will come to understand and accept the road that we’re both on.
We have been talking about a family a little more. The thought of a family—the image of the picture on the Christmas card—is a nice thought. But when I really start to dissect what that looks like, it scares me. It feels too soon for it. I think for Heidi, it’s that she wants some kind of identity besides “the pastor’s wife.” The
youth
pastor’s wife. She’s made some friends, but it’s not always easy for her. It’s easier for her to be behind the scenes. And sometimes that means she’s hidden and isolated. I’m far too busy to be constantly making sure she’s in the midst of everything happening and that her needs are being taken care of.
Sometimes the intimacy … unfortunately, sometimes it’s not there. Not like it used to be. That’s partly because of me, because of the fact that I’m not around. Yet even when I am around, it feels like Heidi is far away.
I understand when you tell me to be careful. I’m very careful. But I don’t think I need to watch her. I’m not sure why you’re assuming I need to. Her privacy and slight depression are just part of who she is. I’m not afraid she’s hiding something big. I don’t drink, and I know she drinks a little here and there but that’s no big surprise. She doesn’t hide it from me. I never want her hiding something from me.
Our relationship is the same as it always has been. When I asked Heidi to marry me, I told her that I didn’t want to grow old and get set in our ways and to do what every couple does—forget where we came from. And this is just a phase, because we’re not going to forget the things that made us work. The things that made us
us.
The sleeplessness is still there. I appreciate your suggestions. It will pass eventually. I know it will. I find myself thinking of the past events and conversations from the day and what lies ahead during the week. Sometimes I have strange dreams, ones that feel so real but that I know are simply dreams. Dreams that always seem to include some raging fire. They’re emotionally draining. Especially the ones that aren’t so happy. I don’t want to call them