I can’t write how terrible I feel. My husband is currently flying to Chicago, then Boston, then London and I will not see him for 8 weeks.

Thinking is impossible, as is writing, sleeping, eating, or breathing. When we got up at 4:15 this morning I wanted to hold him tightly, forever, to close my eyes and somehow make this whole trip be imaginary. Only a five short hours before we had been exercising one of our favorite priviliges as a married couple; how could it be that he was leaving me – again? Alas, alas, alas; I left him in line at SeaTac, forgetting in the rush to tell him I loved him (but he knows), and came home feeling as if I am trying to send my arm or leg off to do this job. Becoming “one flesh” upon marriage always seemed so theoretical, but IT IS NOT. Today is our 6 month aniversary (*weeps*), and after only that long I find myself feeling completely torn apart.

It was when my parents in law dropped me off at home that I realized how very real Ian’s departure was. I walked through the mudroom doors alone, stood in the hall, and wondered what to do with aching myself at 6:15 in the morning. I read a wonderful sweet note that my MiL wrote me (we’ll have to talk) and began crying in earnest for the first time since the night before. All morning I’d just been too tired and somewhat in shock… I crawled into bed wearing the Big Dogs T-shirt Ian gave me the night before he went to college cuddling Mr. Whale and Dogbert, wrapped in the blanket Jess gave me which Ian and I have turned into our Special Blanket. I cried.

And slept. Turns out Orbitz calls me for some odd reason about Ian’s flight info, which explains the cruel 3:40 am phone call I received this morning. Another call woke me at 8:15 or so, but I went back to bed. I just keep praying that Ian makes it there safely, that he does alright having to stay up for over 36 hours straight, that he won’t have any trouble… the list goes on. My eyes have, for the time being, been cried-out. I wish I had taken Mom’s offer of the car; now I’m trapped alone at home (not alone! With Carmel!!) with nothing to do but pack and think about Ian. No distractions.

Perhaps it’s not reasonable but I miss him terribly already. I didn’t mean to write so much; it doesn’t really help the pain. I can’t sleep any more, food sounds repulsive, and though I’d normally take a bath (I’m a firm believer in the wonderfulness of baths), I cannot take one without expecting Ian to join me as he has the last couple times. I wish I could go somewhere, see somebody. Being alone in the house just exacerbates the feeling that Ian is gone because normally he would be here. So alone. Today is the 9th, the 9th of January… that’s 5 months of marriage followed by 2 separated.

Yet as I write this I realize that this is a message of love. All my sorrow, loneliness, and pain are worth suffering through for my and Ian’s love. Maybe I am beginning to get a glimpse of how much Jesus loved us to be willing to be separated from God, whom he was part of and had been part of eternally. Not only to be separated, but to die – that’s love. I love Ian enough that I’m willing to feel the pain of separation for a little while.

I sure hope London is worth all this. How I miss my husband. Today will be a long, long day listening to Jars of Clay alone and trying to find enough courage and motivation to finish packing. Oh, Lord, how will I get through these next eight weeks?

~ ~ ~

Ian, you know this song. I’m posting part of it because every time I hear it, I can’t help but think of you. I love you, my dearest.

Only Alive

You’re a sight for sore eyes and a newborn cry

In a year where there are so few

If you throw me a line, I’ll show you in time

I’m fallin in love with you

I’m only alive with you

I can’t get by and I won’t get through

So put me in the river and let me say I do

I’m only alive with you

Though my heart has been torn by loves I have worn

And I’m tempted by them ever still

I tremble inside when you walk in the room

You hold my affections and will

I’m only alive with you

I can’t get by and I won’t get through

So put me in the river and let me say I do

I’m only alive with you

– KF –

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