This morning, Rob and I sat down together by a window in the Roanoke Airport's little cafe with a cup of black coffee and a plate of greasy hash browns as we waited for his flight to Minnesota.
Rob hasn't even landed in Minneapolis yet, and already I get so many supportive and uplifting comments from you guys, telling me that my positive attitude for this whole thing is inspiring; it's what's going to get me through. I appreciate all of that so much, but I'm not really sure if "we'll figure it out as we go" is just something I say or if it's really enough for me so far. I look at families with a parent in the military who gets deployed, and friends with fiances in different countries, and I still feel like I have a pretty good deal in all of this.
But as lucky as I feel, I still fell apart this morning as he packed up his bags and put on his heavy winter coat. I still cried over our shared plate of hash browns at the airport, and I still felt a little lost as I walked to my car after hugging and kissing him goodbye at the security checkpoint. Only taking it a few weeks at a time can be really simple and effective, and it can also be really overwhelming.
So here I am, on my own on a Sunday morning, feeling a bit overwhelmed, but determined to make the best of it.