14 days...

...until Charlie leaves for Baghdad.

'm not whining...we've done this enough, both of us, to know that a deployment isn't the end of the world. I'm just sad and sorry I guess. I always miss him when he's gone, no matter if it's for a few hours or years. And I am very sorry that he's going to miss so much with the kids. He'll miss Connor's 3rd birthday, the second he's missed in a row. He'll miss the first day of preschool and swim lessons. He'll miss Timmy sitting up, crawling and maybe even walking for the first time. And I'm going to miss my home. I love my family very much and am very grateful they're willing to let me come and disrupt them for six months. But at the same time, it's not *my* family in the sense that we are complete there...it's not my house, it's not my life...not without Charlie. We're just pushing pause where we can til daddy comes home. Yet slowly, inexorably, children grow up despite our best efforts. What a beautiful yet terrible sacrifice we make. How very lucky I am to have such wonderful people in my life to mitigate the worst of another absence from my best friend.

I wonder sometimes if anyone who hasn't been there done that can truly understand what it's like to be on this treadmill of part time fathers, husbands, mothers and wives. I hope we do the right thing in Iraq and Afghanistan, so that none of this was in vain. I think about how many of us across the nation are spending tears on absences that are not of our choice, loving those who can't love us back the way we need because they're called to higher things and have to leave us behind, and I'm torn between pride and mourning. That's all we can do really -- smile and wave goodbye as our hearts ache. I hope I have the bravery to let him go with a smile.