I’m actually a pretty big whiner about it.
Yet, if I’m a real, true, silver lining hunter, I must confess that there is one great thing that has come out of it all: the missing each other and subsequent flirty texting.
When Kel leaves, we go into iPhone communication overload, voxing, texting and love noting each other until he comes home again, exhausted and emptied of his energy and best self.
And when he does? He’s home for me, for us, to be truly himself at home, tired and strong in his weaknesses.
Because when we leave our home base to pour ourselves out to the world, we don’t always return with a lot left.
There’s a sweet grace learned in the rhythm of supporting each other’s passions, you learn that after the phases of selfishness, in the midst of the hard and the whining, you really do believe in each other.
It makes you want to ensure that your home is a place of haven, respite and comfort. A place where you can return to be loved instead of bettered or battered.
Where you can come home empty and find yourself loved as is, even when you can’t take up all the slack you’ve recently abandoned.
There is an intense sweetness in realizing that you miss someone, because the fiber of your home is incomplete without them.
Not because they’re accomplishing something or meeting lofty expectations.
Because they belong with you, and every homecoming is worth a celebration.
I have a Aunt and friend, who makes a welcome home sign for any member of her family when they return from a trip. No matter how small, they come home to a welcome sign, at least as far as I’ve seen.
I want to be that sort of home, where you belong regardless of what you’re able to produce.
Where you are loved and celebrated as you are.
And if there is one thing that has come from the non-ideal rhythm of here, it is that I love my husband for who he is, not what he does, but because we belong together.
Also because when he’s gone I end up eating cookies and wine for dinner.