My husband has been gone for over a week now. To be honest and keep it real with you.... I feel totally alone.
He isn't there to hold my hand. He always holds my hand, everywhere we go. In the car, during church, walking around the city, crossing streets, watching movies on the couch. He likes holding my hand and never likes to let go. He is probably the only person in the world who thinks my hands are beautiful! He kisses them often. A little tradition that started off as a gentlemanly gesture (a pretty darn charming gesture if you ask me!), but turned into something sweet and dear to my heart. He likes to play with my wedding rings when he is lost in thought. He flips my hands over to trace the lines on my palms.
I feel the loss and loneliness everywhere around me. He isn't there to lift me out of the Land Cruiser. He isn't there to carry my laundry basket into the house. He isn't there to make me hot tea on a bad day. He isn't there to help me with chores in the morning, like feeding the animals or cleaning up the courtyard. I wake up expecting to see him next to me. I'm disappointed to reach out and not find him. I go to grab his hand and it isn't there. I jump as I feel the baby start to move, and expect to hear him ask how his little monkey is doing today.
This time of the day is the hardest. After dinner. Before bedtime. As busy as we used to get throughout the day, that time was always ours. We walk around the neighborhood and buy cheap ice cream, watch a new movie and cuddle on the couch, or sometimes he just plays chess online while I read or do crossword puzzles. But we're always next to each other. He's always there with me.
Now, I'm sitting here by myself waiting for him to call. He works late and London is 2 hours behind me, so I've gotten used to staying up later than usual in order to Skype with him every night. Sometimes my sister comes over (my room is in the guest house next door) and we watch a movie together and hang out. It's nice to have her company. But tonight, it's just me. I feel alone.
Just when the silence starts to be too much and my eyes begin to tear up, I feel her start to kick. You see, inside of me, I'm carrying a beautiful little girl. A constant reminder to me of a love that will last forever. A love that distance can't tear apart or diminish. A love that is growing into an amazing little family of our own. It's a love that was a precious gift that I never deserved but am so thankful for.
It's then, looking down and softly encircling my stomach with my hands as she squirms around in my womb, that I don't feel alone anymore. I feel loved. I feel cherished. I feel needed and special. And even though my husband might be over 1500 miles away, a part of him is right here with me. I'm so glad she is here. It's nice to not be alone.