Day Two

    Life happens. It's fluid and the best way I've found in dealing with the daily occurrences is to go with it. Don't fight it. It is what it is. Yesterday felt like a battle ground. Today was no where near that. Yet here I sit, my two older children still awake, waiting for Daddy to get home. It doesn't matter if I've gently told them that won't be happening for a while. Sitting straight up in their dimly lit rooms, they are waiting. More than a year's worth of months has he been gone in the past and in all that time, they have never been affected as much as they are this time.
    This is only day two. The girls have been in bed (well, since the first time I tucked them in) for two hours. Caelan refuses to go to sleep. A pile of books lie beside her. I've read a few of them to her, but she's waiting on Daddy to read to her. Evelynn has her own pile of books. She didn't want to pray about Daddy tonight. I did it for her. Then she tells me, "Daddy will be home soon. Then he will hug me and kiss me. I saw him go away on the plane. I can't see it anymore. Can you see Daddy's plane? Is he coming back soon? I want to see him." I don't think I can go with the flow right now. "It is what it is" seems a dirty, discouraging phrase in the midst of my children aching for their Daddy.
    The lights are still on. Caelan has finally dropped off to sleep. Evelynn is still holding out. Her pile of books is growing and she has a picture of me and Keith in bed with her. I peek in on her every once in a while and sometimes the picture is on her chest. Life might be fluid, but the emotional needs are not.