Three more days, then it will be the day to keep the cell phone close by and wait for Gary to finally call and say it’s time to come pick him up. This past weekend I cleaned, vacuumed, scrubbed, and laundered every square inch of the house, wondering what he will think of the house, picturing him in each room with me, the sound of his voice mixing with the laughter of the kids.
So much changes this week. I am ready for it, aching for it.
After my day of manual labor, I treated myself to a deep conditioner for my hair; a long, hot shower; and then a manicure and pedicure, and stretched out on the sofa with a magazine. I felt relaxed and happy, excited and hopeful.
So many people, both here in the blogosphere and in person, have offered words of kindness and support, and I’ve been beyond touched by it, grateful and hoping I can extend comfort to someone else in a similiar manner. I know Gary and I have a lot of work to do after he gets home, and it won’t be hearts and flowers and no worries. But it will be: recognizing that we work better together than we do apart; that the heartache of this time apart has cemented our priorities; and that at the end of each day, no matter what has happened, we have a lot, more than most, if we have each other.