Not the best part.
Kinda the very-worst-totally-awful-part.
But still a part of life anyway.
Tonight, while washing the dishes - just another "part!" - I realized those separations bring about many of the wonderfully-happy-lovely parts of my life.
Without the absence of My Love:
would I truly treasure the unadulterated joy brought by his presence?
would I register the sweetness of the mini-stampede caused by his return at the end of each day?
would I know how strongly-passionately-deeply, I love him?
would I know how strongly-passionately-deeply, he loves me?
I don't think so.
Don't misunderstand me. It is completely possible TO know those things without an ocean between you, for months on end. But I don't think it would have been so for me. I think I needed these times apart to remind me exactly who I married. To not lose sight of each other during the daily mundane.
He has been home three months now, and, while the reintegration was challenging at times (We did have a baby only 8 days after his return) figuring out our balance is completely worth the difficulty.
Although, the difficulty was actually not that difficult.
It was more just exhausting.
I followed this man I love into a foreign world of military acronyms, separations, moves, challenge; because I had no choice.
Once My Love was in my life - there was no other way it could be.
Pictures from November 2009 courtesy of Chani Rogers
And even though I took all his hair, I'm pretty sure he feels the same way.