I have my family back

The thing about being a military family is that when your partner is away you do what you can to fill in the gaps they leave in your life, you create a routine, a mindset, to get you through the weeks without contact. It was about noon, sitting in Rose's room with her sleeping in my arms. I was doing what I often do, sending a text and a picture to Stephen's phone even though I knew he wouldn't see either of them. It's part of my ritual, my routine.

Love you sweetie, we both miss you so much. 


I set the phone down and moments later it rings. I see the name and my heart skips a beat. Two beats. Three. "STEPHEN?"
"Hi! What's up?"

I'm not sure what I said, if any of it was even coherent English. I was a babbling fool. I yelled for Hazel to take Rose, who thanks to her mama's spastic yelp, was now awake and staring at me in confusion.  All I remember next was him telling us how much he missed us and was coming home. He'd been hurt although he played it off nonchalantly. I swear that man could fall off a cliff, break every bone in his body and still shrug it off as, "meh, I'm cool bro."

I waited all evening for his flight to get in. Chattering away to Rose that her daddy was coming home. She must have sensed the excitement because she laughed and grinned in reply. The moment I saw him exiting the terminal, I pushed past a gaggle of Japanese people (& remembered absently to mumble a sumimasen) and ignored anyone else who got in my way. It took a moment to see the bandaged hand, slow gait in his walk. He was darker than he had been before, sporting a deep tan from who knows how many hours spent under an unforgiving sun.  He had lost weight too (8lbs to be exact). But he was still my Stephen. & he was finally home.

Even on the way home, I still was in a bit of shock that he was really back. I think I gave him at least a half a dozen hugs if only to confirm that it was really him.

Watching Stephen and Rose, I feel so happy. My family, I have my family back.