Soon, I won't miss you. You'll be here with me. Perhaps not every second of everyday, but most of them.
Soon, I will wake up in a slightly better mood just knowing that I won't face this day alone.
Soon, I'll make a better tasting pot of coffee because I will make more coffee. Enough for two. Because when I make coffee for one in a traditional brewer, it just never tastes quite as good.
Soon, I'll WANT to shower rather than just NEEDing to. I'll want to put on makeup and do my hair because I know you'll come home and notice and appreciate it. Even though if I didn't do any of those things you'd still tell me I'm beautiful.
Soon, I'll feel a little more energized and motivated to be physically active because you inspire me to push myself just a little bit farther. I see you do it, yet not demand, nor even ask me to. I guess you bring out the part of me that wants to be my best self.
Soon, I'll be a better parent because you are such a good one. And you'll be here. That's how good you are--you just step right in and "do it." I suppose I step right in and be a mommy in roughly the same way, but in NOT having to feel like I must be daddy too, perhaps I'll feel like being better at my half of the parenting.
Soon, I'll feel like cooking again. REAL cooking--the kind I truly enjoy, but somehow never feel like doing when I am feeding myself, one mini-adult, one picky preschooler, and one toothless wonder-baby. I can smell the Chicken with Forty Cloves of Garlic already. It smells much better than Hamburger Helper, too.
Soon, I will read more at night because I will find a sudden chunk of extra time. At first, I'll wonder where it came from. But then it will start to reveal itself. A little chunk here when you clean up the dishes without being asked. A little chunk there when you take the boys for a bike ride so mommy can have some quiet time. Another chunk when you put them to bed and they squeal with delight because it's your real voice reading to them and not the wonderful recording we made of you one long year ago.
Soon, I won't feel the need to hover over my computer all night from the moment the little ones are asleep to the moment when I am so tired I simply can't stay awake any longer. I won't feel the need to be next to it in case Skype rings, or you respond to my email immediately, or you happen to be on Facebook at the exact same time.
Soon, I will feel whole again. It is so hard to explain without sounding like I watched Jerry Maguire one too many times, but you truly do complete me.
Soon, the boys will ask, "when will daddy be home?" And I will be able to answer, "in a couple of hours--when dinner is ready," and feel like a normal family. There is something just so very unnatural in having to reply, "in a few months, after your birthday/Christmas/Easter/etc."
Soon, I will be able to hug you, to hold you. It will seem surreal at first. But give it awhile and I will probably be telling you to go take a shower because who wants to "hug a stink-bug!"
Soon, I will be able to laugh hysterically at the silly and ridiculous things you do and say only in front of our little family. And I will remember just how much I cherish those little quirks.
Soon, you will be home with us. But so many more won't. I can't forget that. Ever. I will forever be grateful to God above for bringing you safely back. I will forever be grateful for sacrifice of those that didn't make it back. I will forever think of and pray for peace and comfort for their families. I will pray that peace prevails everywhere. Soon. By the grace of God, soon.