Poetry

The Little Things

 The Little Things

Well another day is done and it is a day closer to you being here with me. I
don't bother counting because it would only depress me even more and want you
that much more. I look to the important dates to guide me towards you and
homecoming day. The next day is our baby's 9th birthday, has it been 9 years
since you got lost and I thought I was going to deliver him, in the end her, in
the living room. You telling me that there was a problem with the baby and we
needed to talk. In the end it was just that we did not have a Samuel but a
Meggan. I am glad we had her, she has brought so much joy to the home.

I look forward to work because it is not a day to sit at home thinking about
you and the day that is so far away. I long to feel you touching me with your
eyes, hands, fingers and your love. The ability to lay in bed and just to hear
you breathing and even snoring ( It is bad when you even miss that) and to feel
the warmth that you leave in the bed when you get up. Being woke up by you
telling the kids to be quiet that their mother is still sleeping and they are
to let me sleep (your ploy to actually wake me up and get to crawl back in bed
and snuggle), your falling asleep on the couch at 6pm and saying you are
resting for bedtime. It is the little things that I miss and mean so much to me
these days. You telling me it was a good dinner and that you cooked (i really
cooked) and I have to wash the dishes when in the end you wash.

I am left with the feelings of complete and fullfilling love for the soldier
that I married so many years ago. The one that will leave the family he loves
so much and wanted so much with out a complaint to be heard. Sleep tonight
knowing that I am proud of you and waiting here for your return.

Robin

contributed by Robin [This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
          

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