Living the oilfield life and loving the oilfield manPublished 11:01pm Saturday, January 25, 2014
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It’s not easy being an oilfield wife. Missing holidays and birthdays with the one you love. Worrying about his safety on a rig full of heavy equipment and dangerous chemicals. Missing him.
I know I’m not alone. The south is especially full of women married to a hard working oilman. Many southern women wish their husbands a Merry Christmas over their iPhones and eat birthday cake with one less piece to cut. It’s not easy being an oilfield wife.
It’s not easy for our husbands either. They work hard to provide for their families, to give their children all that they need and their wives a comfortable home. I’ve been blessed lately with having Jacob closer to home. For a while, he worked on a rig in North Dakota, right next to the Canada line. The past few months, he’s been working outside of Kentwood, La., and in Liberty. I’ve been spoiled with him coming home most nights – until he has to work the night shift.
Unfortunately, he has to work the night shift on my birthday this week; and when he does that, he has to sleep a lot of the day. However, he’s promised to buy me a new pair of cowgirl boots, and I get to pick them out. (I actually suggested the idea, but he agreed to it.)
I’m so proud of my hard working man. He takes care of Paisley and me. When he comes home, he usually informs me what’s been going on in his oil world. In my girl world, I have no idea what he’s talking about. And he knows that. So he tries to explain it in “simple” terms. I still have no idea what he’s talking about. I don’t talk “heavy machinery.” Someone usually has to tell me to get my oil changed in my car. That’s as mechanical as I know how to speak. “Yeah, I got my oil changed.” Anything else about oil glides right over my head, or more like flies over my head like a F-15 Eagle.
He’s at work as I type this…doing something with oil. That’s about all I can tell you. A few days ago, FedEx came by our house with a box addressed to Jacob. I opened it and found two containers filled with oil samples. Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to open it. Oops.
I bet you’re still wondering how I know anything about an F-15 Eagle. I don’t. I texted Daddy to give me the name of a fast plane. I have no shame that I am fully woman. Cars, planes and cranes are not in my girl world. That’s why I have a husband and a daddy. Thank God for them.
I’m thankful for my oilfield man. It’s not always easy, but we make it work. I’ve learned life is not meant to be easy, but is meant to teach and grow. Clementine, mine and my sister’s country/bluegrass duo, has a new song about being married to hard working men, such as oil guys. It will be on our Facebook page some time this week. Check it out and let us know what you think.
Have a wonderful Sunday, and whether your oilfield man is home or not, take yourself and your children to church to learn the best lessons they ever will.
By the way, I may not know anything about the oilfield or military airplanes, but I’ll be the one helping the kids with the homework.
You may write to Jessica Boyd Smith by emailing firstname.lastname@example.org.