Welcome home, sailorboy

Hubby comes home tomorrow. It is blissful and stressful all rolled into one. He has been gone six months. He’s missed our daughter’s birthday, our anniversary, my birthday and the birth of our son. We’ve learned to live without him, all the while wishing we didn’t have to. Waiting for him to step off the boat will be moments of stomach-knotting anticipation, then joy. Then sorrow, because we’ll never get those six months back. He can only relive the birth of his son through my storytelling. He won’t be able to recall how tiny he was when he was born. (Not tiny exactly at 8 pounds, but relative to now…) Our daughter remembers Dad through pictures, movies and mom telling her about him, but who knows if she’ll recognize him in person. He’s missed her first haircut, learning her ABCs, all the other things that come with turning 2. But we’re thankful he’s coming home. Now begins the awkward dance of learning to live together as partners–as a family–again.

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