hope on a saturday morning.

There is little I like better than a crisp fall morning. Especially when it comes on August 17th.

We got out of our beds just after 7:30 this morning and went downstairs in our long sleeved pjs and sweatpants. I had to put a light on in the kitchen as I made Maddie’s bottle, because the overcast sky let little light inside. The rain leftover from last night on the grass was so cold that Hudson took just a few steps out before running back in without going potty. I left the back door open, so as I sat on the love seat, with Madeline in my lap drinking her warm milk, we could feel the brisk air and smell an amazing brisket already smoking on our neighbor’s grill. She tucked her toes underneath my crossed legs, and we sat quietly for a few minutes. The absolute perfect start to Saturday morning. Made even better soon after by a hot cup of coffee in my ceramic mug, burning my hands a little as I held it.

Then my phone rang, the Imogen Heap ringtone sending Maddie into an impromptu dance party. It was Andrew. They’re going into the box and aren’t taking their phones with them. He’s been gone for two weeks already, but saying goodbye this morning felt like I had picked off an old scab that had not nearly healed underneath. Two weeks is enough time apart to be sad and then get into a good routine. Now I feel like someone hit the reset button.

I can’t hold the phone up to Maddie and watch her kiss it as her daddy chats in her ear. I can’t text him the funny and not-so-funny stories of the day. I can’t send him pictures of his daughter asleep in her crib each night.
                      Sleeping baby in crib

We’ve done this before. Twice. And for much longer periods of time. NTC and Ranger School made us pros at getting through the day without each other, but who wants to be a pro at that? I hope the change isn’t realized by Madeline. I hope we breeze through this next week at home. I hope New York fills our days with so much love and family that it doesn’t sting as badly.

I’m sure, before I know it, two weeks will have gone by, and he will be that much closer to coming home. And when he does come home, I hope all of our mornings feel just like August 17th, but together.


  1. Aw 🙁 Thinking of you. Prayers for a quick two weeks!

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