Soon, he'll be gone. In less than 3 months, I'll wave goodbye. He'll board a plane. I'll come home with my babies and weep. Then weep some more. I am still not sure how I will eventually drag myself from the tangled mass of sheets on my bed, but I know I will. The kids will need me more than ever this year- this endless, lingering, scary year without him.
And somehow, I am determined to fill every day of his absence with as much joy as I possibly can. For the kids, for me- and for him. I am determined the remind myself daily that it is, perhaps, a year without my love- but not a year without my life. We'll go on. We'll make memories. We'll become better. We'll grow and change and find magic in the mundane.
This is our year- for better or worse- it is the hand we've been dealt and we are going to play it until the end.
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