We have very few days left before Husband is gone for a really long time. I don't need to dramatize it because it is what it is. He's deploying on an unspecified date that is getting closer and closer as each day passes. I know exactly what that means. I will be mom and dad for 15 months. No partner to ask watch the kids so I can run to the store. No friend to talk to when I've had a hard day. No lover to be with as I trudge to bed alone every night.
The kids, on the other hand, don't know exactly how long 15 months is, or what exactly it will entail. They've been here before. This deployment thing. We went through it for 8 months last year. But that was last year. In "kid time" last year was a really long time ago. The memory of not having Daddy here every day is very faded.
Drew and I looked at the calendar today to see just how many days we had left with Daddy. We don't have an actual date of departure yet, but we can estimate. We counted the days and Drew said, "Well, we're lucky that we get him home for a few weeks still".
I went back to doing my dishes and before long Drew walked by me, sat at the dining room table, and put his head down. I kind of assumed he was crying, or upset, but I tried to joke with him to get him to look up at me. He didn't look up.
I walked over and put him on my lap and gave him mommy hugs and mommy kisses. He cried for about two minutes or so. And let's face it, so did I. He's hurting. He adores his daddy. They play football and wrestle around and go to movies and work on the truck and do any number of countless things that daddies and sons do.
Just like that, Drew saw a pile of Pokemon cards sitting on the table that he is going to send to his pen pal, and asked, "Do you want to see what cards I picked out to give to him?" And that was it.
Sometimes we just need a little cry, and then we can get back to life.