We didn't talk too much on the drive. In fact, the silence in the air was deafening.
The ride to the airport seemed to take much less time than normal. Maybe it's because there wasn't a lick of traffic. Maybe it's because I was concentrating so hard on not tearing up that I didn't notice anything but the road in front of me. All I can remember was that I wanted time to linger. To go as slowly as possible. To enjoy my last few moments with my husband in the flesh ...
We pulled into the airport at 6:30 am, and in no time I drove up to the curb at Terminal 7 so Matt could unload his bags. We slowly got out of the car. We shuffled our feet. We both put on our sunglasses.
Our goodbye was quick. Neither of us were ready to part ways, nor did we know what to say. So we hugged. We kissed. We cried. He whispered a few sweet words... He reminded me how much he loved me. He thanked me. He asked me to take care of his children.
And then we both turned and walked away.
DC this week. Onto Baghdad, Iraq next week.
Today begins our 53-week journey with my new role as a single mom. Continue along as I document the highs and lows of our life apart from daddy, and what it's like for the kids back in the US after seven years overseas. It may not always be rosy... but it'll definitely be real.