Mommy Van Winkle....

Generally speaking, I'm not a weepy person. I never have been. My propensity for waterworks increased with the birth of my daughter, but I blame that on hormones.

Even in the sixteen months that my best friend and better half has been away, serving our country and doing meaningful work in Afghanistan, I haven't cried much. That doesn't mean that I haven't missed him. In fact, I don't think I've been a whole person since he left. I guess that part of me shut down; on hold, in a way. Sometimes, when I am alone (if one can ever really be alone with two kids) I look at pictures of Sparky, and the keening ache in my chest is so acute, so sharp, but oh, such a precious hurt!!

Like I said, I've been doing pretty well. Until this morning, when we were stopped by the police at the intersection where we turn to get on the highway that takes us to Fort Carson's Gate One. We walk our dogs there almost every day.

Right in front of us, eight buses, full of America's sons and daughters returned their precious cargo to its home base. The kids and I immediately began to hoot and holler, celebrating the return of a few hundred strangers with clapping and shouting, until the last bus passed, and the police escort turned to follow them. We weren't alone: all of the other cars at the intersection were clapping or honking their horns. Strangers, just like us, just as happy to see those soldiers return as we were.

We proceeded behind the happy caravan, and that's when it hit: to my credit, I didn't completely fall apart, but i made enough noise that the boy had to ask me if I was crying, and why. Nosy little stinker, isn't he?

When the police reached the intersection that led to the gate, they once again stopped traffic on the road, and lined up across that intersection in the oncoming lane, lights flashing, sirens a-wailing as the procession passed.

After the buses went through the gate, there were fire trucks waiting in the roundabout that's right after that gate, its hoses shooting an arch where the buses were to pass through. They were also at full lights and sirens. I thought to myself, "those men and women deserve every damn bit of that fanfare, and more." I love that Colorado Springs is so supportive of the military, and I look forward to settling here after Sparky retires, whenever that is.

I was still bawling as we drove through the base to the park where my grandparents and brother were waiting with their dogs. I guess the missing my husband part caught up with me a little bit. If all goes as planned, he will be home around the 4th of July. That's a little more than a month away. It seems like it gets harder to wait with each passing day. I have never wished my life ahead of where I am now; I don't want to miss a minute of my kids' precious childhood. But now, sometimes, I do. Why can't I just fall asleep, and wake up a few days before he comes home? I just need enough time to decorate the house, get all his clothes put away in the closet (which I have already done), and make some of his favorite food. ( still planning that one)

Part of me was picturing our own family's reunion: The sign I've ordered, the balloons I'll bring, the camcorder, and our brave daddy, running to his screaming, joyfully weeping family, the embraces, the kisses, the death grip my daughter will have on his neck, the boy clinging to his waist, and me, somewhere in all that, my arms around him, too. I'm not sure how we'll make it to the car, much less drive home from the airport.....The joy will be overwhelming, and is so much anticipated! When I made our deployment chain, it stretched nearly all the way around the ceiling on the bottom floor of our house in Washington. Now it's six weeks long, and that's it. I think we'll even have a few days left over. I made the chain long enough to last until the 15th of July.......nothing but smart, that. You never know what's going to happen when it comes to military transportation.

As lonely as I've been, and as difficult as it has been at times, I have never once begrudged my husband this voluntary deployment. He has been waiting to do his part for so many years; now it's his turn. Sparky is honorable, brave, intelligent, kind, compassionate, and my best friend on earth. The things that make him want to put himself in harm's way (and believe me, this is no cake assignment, sitting somewhere in a big, safe base for a year) for a bunch of ungrateful stranger,and do what he's trained for so long to do is as much a part of him as the things that make me love him. I wouldn't have him any other way.

And I can't wait for him to come home. So please, Lord, continue to watch over my husband as you have so faithfully for the past year, and please bring him safely home to us, if it is your will. Amen.