This morning was the hardest morning I have ever had. Well, besides the morning Rhayn had surgery on her palate but that was a totally different kind of hard.
Will's flight was at noon, and we were having a surprise party for my mom at noon. Since he needed to be at the airport by ten, it worked well as a plan. So the planning part of my brain was happy to be able to do all of the things I needed to do. The emotional part of myself was well boxed away, I don't like to let her out very often.
Last night Will and I fell asleep on the couch, entwined in each other. Body warmth. Arms around. Secure. And all night long I woke up, and reached over to touch his back, his arm, his hair. Morning dawned bright and early and we lay in bed for a while. Um, doing what I think most of us do if we are married. It was nice.
The morning sped up, and I knew that we needed to get him to the airport, and I didn't want to. At. All. We had an issue with Rhayn, a misunderstanding and a scare. But it caused more unrest in the house. It made our last hour not very nice, to put it bluntly.
That little box, that holds my emotional self, started to crack around the time we all got into the car. The small cracks became bigger as we drew nearer and nearer to the airport. I tried to make conversation, and to be lighthearted. It felt impossible, my eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to escape.
I pull up to the curb, and stop. Shaking inside. In my mind I was sobbing, but outside I was holding it together just barely well enough. Will leans over and kisses me goodbye. "I miss you already." Such a simple thing to say. Such little words. Such a big impact. It took every ounce of strength I possessed to allow him to kiss the girls goodbye (Gwennie was asleep, too) and then wave and pull away. It took all my inner power to not just make a circle around the airport and park, and run in and make him come home with us. I glanced back in my rear view mirror, and saw him on the curb. It hurt.
Inside the cracks that had been threatening to split open all morning, and possibly even the night before, finally exploded. My eyes poured tears as I drove down the road, away. My tears dripped down my cheeks and onto my shirt, my chest, cold in the air conditioner. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and drove, thinking of my route, and trying to repair my emotional box. But that was hard. And took about fifteen miles before I could breath deeply again.
We stopped a while later to grab something at a store. Gwennie woke up and as we walked into the store, she innocently asked "Is my daddy coming, too?" And the powerful woman warrior inside of me stood her ground, staring down the emotional box "This is not the time to break down," she chanted. And I held myself together as I softly told Gwennie that we already dropped her daddy off at the airport, because he had to go back to work. But inside a whimper escaped the box. Inside a tear fell as I saw the disappointment on her face.
Just now, the phone rang, Will letting me know he is there. That he made it alright. I am so glad to know he is fine. But for now, my box has been rendered useless, and my emotions have surfaced, and my face is soaked with tears.
And for now, I am going to lay in bed, cuddle his pillow to smell him and try to sleep.