I want to celebrate you.
I want to toast to a “fresh start” and “new opportunities” with the flip of a calendar page.
I want to slough off the old and used from 2014 to reveal shiny and new for 2015, like so many others are doing.
But I hesitate. Your calendar’s days are already pre-planned for me for part of my year, colored in black with a void in our family’s dynamic, as my husband is scheduled to travel overseas for some of this year.
Ah, the military life.
He’s been gone for a week at training, and I’ve crafted a new family groove. Sh*t’s gettin’ done, yo.
“This isn’t too bad, I guess” I mumble to myself as I load the laundry.
“I can handle this, no problem,” I say in my next breath, as I wipe the counter.
The house is moving like a well-oiled machine while I get my rhythm flowing in preparation for the real deal.
Of course, the chores, meals, and child management aspect are manageable, sure.
This “ain’t our first rodeo.”
I’ve been a mom to many for a long time, now, I’ve “got this” with my eyes closed.
It’s when darkness falls, and only distant snores can be heard, that I instinctively reach out and discover my hand-holding, DVR-watching partner isn’t there with me.
When the only breath awake is mine – that’s when the silence is deafening for me.
Or, instead of in bed, I have a crumpled, newly-turned eight-year-old girl who’s sad on my lap and missing her daddy.
We’re near the end of his nine-day training, and there’s light at the end of this tunnel. Despite these long, exhausting days, I can exhale knowing this one’s almost over. But with more on deck, that light seems so ridiculously far, and we haven’t even begun this journey yet.
Deep breaths. 2015, please be kinder than your calendar’s days already show.