*sigh*
Another trip to the airport.
Another lonely house to return to.
We left in plenty of time to get to the airport.
On our way, I got into the predictable frame of mind. Rick reached for my hand and I teared up. When he saw my tears streaming down my face, he reached for a tissue and handed it to me. I just kept thinking about being done with this. We only have 11 weeks to go. I know it will go fast, but it seems like an eternity.
The kids were in the back seat playing and I looked up and saw my American flag hanging from the visor. I know the reason that we do this. I know the reason Rick is needed. He is skilled in his work and he’s one of a few that know how to do what he does. I realize that Afghanistan is a dangerous place. It’s getting more and more dangerous, too. Part of me feels that we should not push it. Meaning, he’s already been safe in all his travels so far. Should we push it? Should he go and push his luck? Ugh. It’s tormenting.
I pray everyday that God returns him to me safely and in one piece.
The boys cried before bed tonight. They both understand that it’s 11 more weeks. 77 more days. 22 more karate classes. I try to be as specific as possible to help them understand that 11 weeks really isn’t that long.
They understand that our country needs Rick. They know that there isn’t just anyone that can replace him in his job. And that no one can replace him at home either.
Rick is safely on his way to Kuwait. Stop #2 in his journey back to the middle east.
Goodnight my love. See you soon.
