He’s back.
Safe, sound, and scruffy.
As he held me close and my head leaned into his big, hard familiar chest I heard him whisper, “Hi, mommy.”
His eyes lit up as he saw the girls. I thought they might scream or run to him, but they waited with huge smiles for him to walk down the “Do Not Enter” corridor and then hugged him and watched him with their ever-adoring eyes.
I teared up when I first saw him coming. He’s here; he’s really here; God brought him back safely to me!
As we went to get his bags and the car, I was so, so, so, so happy to not be the only adult in charge anymore; to have another pair of eyes to watch the girls with, to have a friend to smile at, to know that he would be with me now.
He showered us with presents. If I can get good pictures of them, I’ll share them in a couple of weeks.
Even though he was exhausted, he stayed up to talk to the girls while I made lunch. We ate together and then he went to sleep… for fifteen hours.
But I didn’t care; the backpack in the middle of the living room, the maps and books and pictures everywhere, the zonked out body in the bed, the mountain of laundry waiting to be done, the smiles on the girlies faces, all said one thing: Daddy was back.
And for now, that was enough to be completely happy.
Thanks for reading my first series: Taking care of four little girls alone (while my husband is on an amazing study trip to Israel). Here are links to the other related posts.
It’s official: the Israel trip is on
Day 1: to turn out that last light
Day 3: Is something wrong with me?
Day 4: Sometimes you just need…
Day 6: The problem with “me” time
Day 9: Letting others be there for you
Day 13: Christmas shopping for Daddy, anxiety, and felt flowers
small steps, big picture 