The Hubby has been away this week on business, which is not the usual scenario for us.
I find myself missing him in lots of little ways… like when I had to bring the recycling bins in on Monday. No, that’s not it. Not really.
It’s the certainty that if I’m cold at night and roll over, that I’ll be instantly warmed by his almost furnace-like heat. It’s the alarm clock that he monitors so I don’t have to worry about what time it is, and can actually get some sleep. It’s the warm hand on my back or shoulder in the soft morning light that urges me to wake up and get going, or how quiet he is on days when it’s not my turn to get up, and he tiptoes from the bedroom so I can sleep on. It’s the fact that he actually takes turns with me so he can spend some time with Wee One before she heads off to school, since he’s home well after bed time during the week.
It’s the solid, enveloping hugs that make my body sigh with relief that I didn’t know it needed. It’s the deep blue eyes that see directly into my soul, and love me, warts and all. You know… if I had warts. Which I don’t.
It’s the knowledge that he’s there, behind me, beside me, in everything that I do, that I try, and that I dream.
He’ll be home tonight, and I’ll sleep soundly, finally, knowing he’s there.