The house is semi-clean. Let’s face it, it’s the best I could do after a week of 11 cake orders. There are yellow ribbons around our tree and on our porch. There’s a six-pack of Yuengling in our frig. Jason’s pillow case is in the dryer right now. The time had come to wash it. I will not be sleeping alone tonight.
Jason is coming home in a matter of hours.
Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God. We made it. He survived a third turn at the russian roulette wheel. Our marriage is healthy, the kids are alive, my sanity is some-what intact, and my husband is coming home to me. Tonight. Tonight! Yes, I am totally singing West Side Story in my head.
By the time you’re reading this, he’s already here. We’ve kept it pretty tightly under wraps for a few reasons. First, Jason’s cousin is getting married today. We didn’t want anyone to feel torn in two directions, and we agreed that we thought David deserved his own day without it turning into the Jason show. The timing is just so coincidental. One more day earlier and we could have made it, but maybe it’s better this way, so now Jason can settle in and adjust without such a hectic pace. Second, we kept it secret for the sheer surprise value to his family and our kids. It will be so fun to see their faces when we show up down there. 😉 Don’t worry, we’re not locking him in the tower, just waiting until he can surprise his family. =)
At moments, it doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like this is over, like we made it. It feels like any other day, feed kids, bathe kids, clean up after kids, deliver cake, clean kitchen… you get the point. Maybe it doesn’t feel real because he’s coming home on ADVON, ahead of his unit. He’s coming to be with Brody, to help me make treatment decisions and be there for the rest of the tests he’ll have to undergo. But at times today it has struck me that he will be here. I’ve cried. It’s not the desperate boo-hooing you could hear, but just the sheer release of the pent-up stress of this last year. He’s safe. He’s coming home. Tonight I will sleep next to my husband. Tomorrow morning, I will serve the rest of the kids’ countdown-to-daddy M&M’s in morning pancakes. They’ve been waiting for so long.
This doesn’t mean I don’t have reservations. A year is a long time. I have become accustomed to watching whatever I want whenever I want to. I have had a year free of sports on my television. I have hogged the covers, I have done whatever I pleased. But I will gladly trade this in to have him here. He’s coming home!!! I have tried not to envision this moment. I have tried to remain calm, cool, collected. Function. But right now, I am 6 hours away from holding my husband and the excitement I feel is simply indescribable. Giddy. Giggly. Overwhelmed with joy and gratitude.
Soon, I will not have the load of this world on just me. Tonight, I can share my worries, and I know that he’ll listen. Tonight, I can see his face without the skype pixelation from that awesome Afghanistan internet. Tonight I won’t worry that something has happened to him. Tonight, I can kiss my husband.
Tonight is a good night.
So yes, the kids will get in bed soon. I will jump in the shower, shave my legs in peace and quiet, dress in my new outfit (Because I refuse to be Frumpy McFrump Frump), and pick up my husband. I will dance around my bedroom in my victory dance, apply my makeup, and attempt not to speed on my way to post. Well, not get caught speeding. Because in just a few hours, my arms will be around my husband, my best friend, the love of my life.
Yes, Freaking YES!!!!