(This is actually old, but I couldn't quite finish it when it was current. I'm sure you'll understand.)
Today's the day! My husband is coming home! Of course, I hopped out of bed as soon as the alarm went off. I made the day's to do list, and started packing, and doing chores, and trying to get ready.
At first, I tried to ignore the nagging feeling that I wasn't ready. But as the morning progressed, and the time to leave came closer, it got harder to ignore. This house is a mess! I'm a mess! His half of the closet is still full of my stuff!
Then came the bad thought: "Maybe their flight will be delayed." A bad thought, because that isn't supposed to make you feel good. But for a moment, it did. Imagine what I could do with another 24 hours. (Just ignore the fact that I've had 12 months.)
Of course, I don't want him to be delayed - I want him to be home. But I can't imagine that I'm the only person who has ever had that thought. As the day went on, the dream got bigger. "Maybe I'll get two days."
Let's face it. Another day, or two, isn't going to make me ready for him to come home. I need to just let it go, get to terminal, and enjoy having my husband home.
