24 Hours Too Long

I miss your face.

Is it always going to feel like this? Nothing seems to have changed. Every time you go away, I cry.  Yesterday I almost couldn’t see you waving goodbye to me as you drove past the front patio.  My eyes were much too clouded with tears.  All morning I sat on the couch and stared at the door, quietly whimpering by myself like a new puppy.  The tears came pouring down until I had no more strength and fell asleep.

This morning when I woke up, you weren’t there beside me.  I turned around and hugged the pillow I had intentionally placed behind my back last night.  A sort of comfort to get me through.  Something to help convince my brain that you were here. But the room was still empty.  And your presence was gone.

Do other women cry this much when their husbands leave? Maybe. Maybe not. But I can barely handle one day–how much more a week, a month, or even years? I used to think I was strong.  But my eyes are still puffy, cheeks still damp.  The truth is, I’m just a silly little girl trapped inside a grown up body.

Where are you now?  What’s the road like?  Is it sticky tire weather? Are you having fun riding through the corners?  I pray that you arrive safely with Dad and the boys.  I trust our Father is watching over you.

I know He’s watching over me.  He’s given me new girl friends. His timing is perfect as usual.  I’m so grateful for these new friendships.  They fill that gap in my heart–the one I’ve had ever since the day I left home.  And they help me get through these long, dreadful hours without you.

Five more days.  It sounds like an eternity to me.  I can’t let myself think too far ahead or else I start to get sad again.  I can already feel the tears welling up.  Maybe one day at a time is all I can handle.

I should get going now.  The quicker I start this day, the quicker it will end, and I’ll be another twenty-four hours closer to the day I get to see your face again.

Bye for now, my love.


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