My family just drove off, packed up, fed, clean, in travel clothes, outfitted with healthy food for the trip and a hot cup of coffee for Ralph.
I sat down on my couch, said a prayer of thanksgiving for them, and then asked for their safety and return home to me. Then I had a short cry.
I know that time to myself shouldn’t feel scary. And it isn’t, once I am used to it. But it’s hard when parting time comes. I have a slightly difficult time being without my husband. No matter how we’re getting along – sometimes wonderfully, sometimes, eh… – he is my comfort and I share his bed every night. Add to his leaving every other human physical comfort available to me – Sophie’s hands stroking my back at night, Nels arms around me in the morning (this morning he slept in and when he came out of his room he was holding his butterfly wings and needed me to put them on him so he could be a butterfly), their sweet breath and soft skin and Nels’ husky voice (he is talking more and more and almost everything he says sounds like it came out of the Cute Factory) and Sophie’s lisp. I held them so much this morning, and the last couple days.
And when they get back, I will hold them again, as much as we all can stand it.