Deja Vu

His toothbrush, deodorant, and razor are gone from the bathroom sink.
Now, only 3 towels hang in the bathroom.
His pile of clothes are gone from the floor. They've been washed and put back in drawers and hung in the closet ... not to be worn again for several months.
The uniform is gone from the house.
The spot beside me in bed is empty and cold.
His snacks have been put aside to be mailed in a care package.
His wallet and sunglasses are gone from the counter top.
The kids' rough-housing playmate is missing from the floor.
His laptop is gone from the end-table.
The kitchen table isn't quite so full anymore.
His presence is gone; it's too quiet in the house, even with the kids making their own loud noises.
It's almost as if he was never here; that's how fast the 2 weeks went by. In a blur.
Not enough time with him.
It's never enough time when you have this long separation looming.
It was like deja vu driving to the airport.
Different airport but same outcome.
Having to say goodbye, but not wanting to again.
The first tears started when the kind, warm, welcoming Delta agent approached and asked him where he was headed...then the sincerity and catch in her voice when she said "Thank you."
Reality hit, we were going to have to go through this again.
Saying goodbye at the gate and trying desperately not to cry, especially in front of the kids, but losing that battle almost immediately. As if I even had a chance.
Watching him walk away and thinking I just can't do this again.
Knowing I have to, knowing there isn't a choice.
Hurting at the thought of how long our family isn't a complete family.
Thankful I'm not going through this alone and have the support of family and friends near and far.
Putting one foot in front of the other.
Taking it day by day.