The last couple of months we've been preparing for daddy's departure. He leaves for Iraq in a few days and it seems he just got back from the last deployment, even though it was a year ago.
This last year while he was home we bought a house. He's been itching to remodel the bathroom, so three weeks ago he did. That fiasco requires its own blog title, so I'll just say the bathroom is looking great. It's not completely finished, but it's functional. In any other situation, he'd be getting an ear full because the job isn't done but when saying good-bye to someone for 15 months you tend to prioritize the things that are important to yell about. The crown molding can wait.
He's saying good-bye too. In the last couple of weeks, I haven't had to ask him once to take out the garbage or move his dirty clothes. When saying good-bye every moment counts. There aren't anymore forgotten kisses when we part and 'I love you' seems to feel different when it rolls off of my lips. It's not that I didn't mean it before, but somehow it means more now.
I hate saying good-bye. I'm already looking forward to saying, "Welcome Home."