Monday, March 19, 2012
on missing him
And I miss him like crazy. I keep telling myself that it could be much worse: he could be gone for months or even years, fighting a war for the safety of this place I call home. But it hurts so much to have to say goodbye every weekend, to not share the normal minutia of life. It hurts to know that he's hurting, that he's longing as desperately for me as I am for him.
Sometimes when I'm upset, my brain works better in poetry, music, or art. I feel better if I can create. So as he left for work last night, I redecorated the dining room table. I cried. I tried a new recipe. I sang. I prayed. And I wrote poetic prose:
The moment you got in the car, I missed you.
You are my home, my anchor.
I feel lost at sea on a cloudy night
Without the stars from which to take
I long for you more than words can explain.
I love you.
Today there were thunderstorms and rain. At the same time, the sun was shining, daffodils were blooming, and there was a magnificent complete rainbow with a mirrored reflection, and tiny willow leaves against the darkbluegray sky.
Today there was heartache and stress. At the same time, I wore a pretty gray dress with a spring-green cardigan, took a single daffodil to school in a vase, had enough to eat, and had moments of wonder. Soon, I will rest in safety.
Soon, I will rest with my husband in a place that is ours together every day. Soon, I'll reach the summit of this mountain called a Masters Program. Soon.
Praying for strength for today, and hope for tomorrow. Remembering my blessings, and cherishing the man who is my husband. Trusting the God who gave him to me and me to him. Believing that together will really come "soon enough."
And letting the tears fall.