James hasn't even left for Iraq yet and I already miss him.
Maybe that's because I have seen him approximately 2 hours during the last 2 weeks. The training is really taking its toll. It hurts to admit this, but it would actually be easier if he weren't physically here. To be physically present-a few short miles away at the training area- and still missing out on our lives is nothing short of torture. He's absent from the most mundane things, like tucking in the kids and sitting down for dinner to the big things, like Isaiah's photo shoot and Savannah's awards assembly and promotion ceremony. The kids didn't see him once on Father's Day.
The few precious moments James and I have managed to share have been riddled with stupid arguments. The experts call it distancing --a phenomenon that occurs when a loved one is preparing to leave. It's supposed to psychologically dull the pain of saying goodbye--a hard hat for the heart, so to speak. Whatever it is, it stinks. We've done this song and dance before. It should get easier, right?
I know it's way too far in the game for things to return to normal. All I want is some quality time--when we're not fighting, when he's not exhausted, when I'm not being a witch.
I hope we get that chance soon...he leaves in 3 days.