An Ode to My Husband

If you've ever been in a relationship with anyone – mother, father, sibling, friend, boss, co-worker, or even spouse – you know that the people we care about have a superhero ability to drive us absolutely crazy.

This next month my husband is going to be away and I have been looking forward to a month free of pesky irritants. No alarm at 4:30am, no History Channel, no picking socks up off the floor. A whole month for me to do whatever I want. Catching up on magazines by the pool? Don't mind if I do! Ice cream for breakfast? Why not! Like a spa vacation or personal retreat, I've been fantasizing about a time of rejuvenation.

But today I find myself incredibly sad. He isn't even gone yet, but the reality that he soon will be is hitting home. Our common language, which sounds foreign to other ears, will not be spoken (unless I end up talking to myself which is highly probable). No bouncing ideas off each other, no hearing the sound of his laughter, no dancing in the grocery (it's a thing we do). Already I feel like an old bag of dried up bones knocking around a soon-to-be all-too-empty house.

I'd been looking forward to peace and quiet, but now I'm not so sure. After all, the crazy is part of what makes life together interesting. Like trees dotting the landscape on a roadtrip, the petty annoyances add a little color and scenery to what would otherwise be a boring trip. As any intro to art class will teach you: light without shadow would just be flat.

I will do my best to enjoy our time apart - not to celebrate his absence, but to celebrate him. And me. And life. What would I be if all I had to show for our time apart was sorrow? Co-dependent for one. And not the woman he fell in love with for two.

And the man I fell in love with? Yes, he gets up way too early and leaves his socks on the floor. But he also makes me laugh and inspires me and encourages me and supports me and navigates the ups and downs of life with me.

Our nightly ritual is to share one thing that surprised and delighted us during the day. I plan to have a whole month's worth to catch him up on when he gets home. I will miss him, but it won't be that long. The alarm, History Channel and socks… they'll be back before I know it.