Sunday, March 29, 2009

Still

On the weekends Sgt. works double shifts from 3pm until 7am. The house is quiet when he's gone and I often occupy myself with laundry or cleaning or movies, sometimes all three and then some.

I go to sleep early because there is no one here to play chess with or to cuddle with on the couch listening to the Michael Buble station on pandora, like we do lots of nights. (which is a FABULOUS station by the way) I don't cook dinner because there are enough leftovers from the week and honestly, cooking for one is never very fun. (plus I just cleaned the kitchen right?) It's a nice relaxing time but my favorite time is still when he gets home in the morning.

Since I moved in here I can't think of a weekend morning that's gone by where he hasn't done the same, wonderful, perfect thing.

He comes in and changes out of his uniform, and does the usual "going to bed" rituals. He sneaks into the room, careful not to wake me. Usually he doesn't (wake me, that is). Then he moves the covers and climbs in to bed which usually gets my eyes open, and he pulls me close and kisses my forehead and whispers sweet and charming and loving things before he falls asleep.

I like to lay there with him. Even when I'm already awake, it's nice to have him by my side for a little while. I still watch him sleep for a few moments, thinking about how lucky and blessed I am to have him by my side. To have gone through everything we've gone through... PCS's and deployments, over a year apart, the confusion and mess that was October, and still we are here. Together. As if, it was always supposed to end up this way. (I think it was)

Living together, it's easy to be used to him here every day. I don't spend my days thinking about all the time we've spent apart but there are moments, moments when I catch him pouring us coffee as I walk out of the bedroom in the morning, and moments where I feel his presence quietly behind me as he sneaks over to kiss my neck, when the world gets quiet and all can think about is "I'm so glad you're here."

This morning he layed there sleeping with my head on his chest and his arm draped across my waist. I watched his chest rise and fall. And that sense of relief washed over me. He has still not been home a year, but I am thankful for every moment that he is. I have seen him in many lights since last August. The settling that comes with time from one environment change to another certainly had its way with us both :)

He is not impossible to keep up with, although he certainly gives me a run for my money. He is strong and sure and loves me in a way that restores my faith in pure and uncostly love, every day. He makes me laugh and supports me with encouragement that is his alone. He's able to do this because he has learned about me, and continues to do so. The hard work (however last minute it may be ;) ) he has put into school is quite a sight to see. I admire and respect him so much for the unstoppable force he is when it comes to achieving his goals, and when it comes to the attention and care he puts into us.

I'm not sure why I felt compelled to blog about it. Maybe it was just one of those moments when you know you want to be able to look back a year from now and remember it. And all it took was laying next to him, watching him sleep, knowing he's here beside me and knowing I wouldn't change a thing.

3 comments:

jlc

Yes! Def blog about whatever your heart feels like at the moment. I love that we can keep these as journals to look at for later on....


Hope you're having a great Sunday Kiki!

indiana.girl

I read this and I won't lie, I died a little inside, wishing my own man where home already. However, there is also something so comforting about knowing others that have gone through everything and now are on the other side, and able to just soak it in. I am also a totally believer in marking the moments.

(army)Wife

This was so beautiful and sweet. I'm all teary-eyed right now because it really makes me think of Stonewall and how much I miss him and how...empty everything is with him gone.