I'm numb.
This day seemed so far away when we moved here last year. Even this summer when we had our family time. But, as time always does, it caught us quick. Ronnie left today.
We woke up at 2 am to drive him into the squadron and drop him off. The sky was clear and the stars were bright. Especially Jupiter. It was high and bright and stable. Eventually, after our last hugs and last kisses, the girls and I left him to join his guys for the next 9 months. We got back home and crawled into bed.
Before I fell back asleep, part of me prayed there would be a call saying "nevermind, we're going to catch next week's flight" or "hey, the war's over and we don't have to go." The more rational part of me prayed for their safe travel and for Him to watch over them and bring them home safe and sound. At some point, I fell asleep.
The alarm went off as usual at 6:30. I knew I had to get myself together enough to get the girls fed, dressed, and off to school. Even though I didn't feel like it. I wanted to hide under the covers. I remember thinking that maybe if I hid long enough, he would come home sooner. Instead I drug myself to the coffee pot for a jolt of energy and headed upstairs to get the girls, with a smile affixed to my face.
They got off on the bus and I climbed back into bed... And then the tears came. The ugly, body-shaking, soul wrenching kind of tears. The ones that you can only let fall when you know no one is looking because you are so vulnerable in that moment. The ones that you let fall when you also know that one person is right there to comfort you. Except he wasn't. He was heading to catch a plane that was going to take him 7,000 miles away from us.
I decided to allow myself to wallow until there were double digits on the clock. I made a deal with myself, the big girl panties went on at 10 am. There was homework to do, parent-teacher conferences to attend, miles to run, and grocery shopping to be done. This house won't run itself, papers don't write themselves, and the food and laundry fairies haven't been around for a long time. And so I did...
Day Zero has now come to a close. The girls are bathed and in bed. And I'm sitting here alone on the couch. Tomorrow will be better, and the next day will be better than tomorrow, and so on and so on. Day 275 can't get here soon enough.
