Aadmittedly I'm a little flinchy these days, but the doorbell is driving me crazy. My neighbour across the street picked up a copy of the paper with Dan's picture in it, and decided to drop it off before he went to work. A very sweet gesture that earned him a beating with said newspaper. Do not come to my door at that time of day with your uniform on. And never, ever ring my bell! The window in our front door is frosted so I couldn't tell it was him. Poor Kyle, he felt so bad. He did assure me that if anyone came to my door bearing bad news, there would be a pack of them, at least 3, and in their dress uniforms. At which point, I would not answer the door at all, I'm inclined to think. Seriously, you'd think after 12 weeks I'd be over it, but I'm so not. In fact, since Easter Sunday, it's been much worse. I've come to accept that ugly knot in the pit of my stomach will not completely go away until after Dan gets home. It does ease up when he is in KAF. He tells me not to worry all of the time, but whatever. Your wasting your breath baby. Not going to happen. We've watched the video over and over again. Blasted thing only makes us miss you more. The girls and I watched American Idol Gives Back tonight, and Katty told me, "I'm glad Daddy is in Afghanistan helping the kids and I'm glad we got to see a picture of Daddy, but I wish we could have real daddy instead of pictures of daddy." I wish we could have real Daddy too! But wishes won't wash dishes. I know this because I have a sink full to go wash now.
"Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age."~~John Dryden
No comments:
Post a Comment