I held my breath Saturday as news broke across the sandbox. There was not a rush of panic and disarray for me..I said a prayer - it only takes one - and waited for God to show up. He calmed my fears and gave me a strength that I thought I'd lost along the way of this deployment. After seeing my husband's tired and weary face later in the day (via Skype), I felt the air I had held from the beginning of the day, slowing release.
Before going to bed I broke out the gym bag that held the clothes Rich wore on our last night together. The bag had remained untouched all this time.. for 46 days. It took me at least 30 days to bring it from the back of the car into the bedroom. I would even wonder out loud to myself why I just didn't empty the bag and move on; Saturday I got my answer. I knew I had kept the bag intact just for this moment. Surprisingly, after 45 days, nothing smelled..he had only worn the clothes for a few hours. I threw his underwear and socks in the laundry and took out his shirt, put his jeans back in the bag.
Jake jumped on the bed to lay beside me, his head on my shoulder. I could hear him as he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, again and again, his eyes closed. I smiled when I realized that he was breathing in 'his daddy', just as I was breathing in my husband. We fell asleep this way, the lights still on, for a few hours before Jake jumped down to get in his bed. On Sunday morning I packed the shirt away in a plastic bag for the next time.
Love, Peace & more Peace & Love!
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