Tear drop

Today was not the best day.  I don't know why, but today I was really missing Justin.  Everything seemed to remind me of him.  The simplest and silliest thing, like a rotisserie chicken at Fred Meyer makes me miss him. Although we are able to text, and I know he's coming home relatively soon, the realization that in the not so distant future I would be missing him 100x what I was today was hitting hard.  That put my normal perky self in a not so up beat mood.

The most frustrating thing about being apart so often, and for long periods of times, is not the solo parenting, having to take care of day to day issues alone, or even the cold bed at night.  Instead it is the days that you just plain miss him, and nothing makes it better.  Nothing.

I've done quite well up to this point.  Completing my to do list, keeping busy with the boys, working, exploring more of Anchorage, and hanging out with my fellow pseudo single army wives.  However, after the past couple of rainy days, the sun shine this morning made me sad.  It was a beautiful day for a hike, and my hiking buddy (or the Kelty Pack wearer and bear gun carrier!) was no were to be found.  Rowan's 4 month check up was today (weighing in at a whopping 14 lbs 14 oz...) and sitting there waiting for the doctor made me think of all the well baby visits Justin missed with Jenssen, and all the future ones he was sure to miss with kids yet to come.  Eh, a doctor's visit, not that big of a deal right?  No, not really.. but to us, yeah, kinda really.  When first steps and first words aren't guaranteed memories for a military parent, something like a 4 month preventative visit becomes a milestone.  I sat there, wishing Justin was there with me.  A long sigh, oh well, we will shoot for 6 months.  Shots were given, little new baby tears were shed, and we were on the way to Freds for groceries. 

If Jenssen is in a toddler mood, shopping, especially grocery shopping, becomes interesting when you mix in a 4 month old and a car seat.  After the logistics were figured out, we moved in for the necessities.  What to make for dinner?  That question is daunting when you are the only adult.  It is no fun to cook by yourself, which many of you can agree to I'm sure.  I'd be okay eating toast every night.  However, I'd hate to see Jenssen hopped up on blueberry jelly, so something balanced must be prepared.  Every meal I could think of made me think of Justin.  What he likes, what he doesn't like, what he makes, and what he would say to my dinner ideas for the night.  The funk continued.

On the drive home I almost forgot about Justin for a second.  Then we pulled into the driveway, Jenssen saw Justin's truck and exclaimed "Daddy Home?" A tear hit my hand.  The first tear since Justin left.  No, daddy isn't home and daddy won't be home for a while yet I thought to myself.  A bit of a pity party ensued, with the sole invite being to me.   Maybe it was the full day of appearing so composed on the outside, yet feeling so lonely on the inside that got to me.  Maybe it was the realization that this current separation is just a warm up to the year to come.  Or maybe it was two simple words uttered with such enthusiasm from my 2 year old.  Whatever it was it hit hard.

I had milk and babies to carry inside, so I dried the tear and moved on.  Surely Jenssen would do something cute, or Rowan would give me a smile, and that would send this funk on it's way.  That would cheer me up. Nope, nothing remarkable.  I was tired and ready for this day to be over.  Supper was made, skyping was done (Thanks Mom and Dad, you kept me company once again!), and bath time was completed.  After I got the boys in bed I began to think about how sure I was that one of the boys would drag me back to the positive side of things.

It was then I realized how important memories are.  No, nothing outstanding happened tonight that made my glass half full again.  But taking a second and remembering the day the boys were born, the overwhelming relief I felt when I hugged Justin for the first time when he came home from Afghanistan, or the quiet "mommy?" that I hear every morning as Jenssen climbs into my bed, got my mind off of missing Justin, and thinking towards tomorrow and the memories yet to be made.

You can't always expect the perfect moment to come along, even when you need it.  I needed it today, but it never came.  Good thing I have plenty of them stored up in my memory bank.  I think I'm going to slow down a bit, and take in the little moments of every day, really let them soak.  You never know when you will need them to give you the boost you need to get through the day.

Two and a half weeks into this means two and a half weeks down right?  Well lookie there, I guess that half glass full gal is back.  But I still miss him.