To have, but not to hold (right now)

This past weekend, Greg came home for a visit, and we made the most of it, as always.  I make it a point to try to appreciate every moment we have together, although the experience is double-edged: it's wonderful to be all together, and at the same time, I find myself trying not to resent the fact that we can't ALWAYS be together.

Waiting at the airport for Greg to land

It makes me feel so safe and anchored when I stand in the strong circle of his arms...and feels so horribly unfair that I only get to have that privilege once every month or two.  It's a beautiful thing to watch him put our children to bed...and yet I feel greif choking up in my throat as I count down to the last night before he'll have to go back to his tiny apartment alone.

Picking wildflowers in the yard

Every kiss, every time I see one of the children take his hand, every time he pulls the boys into a wild wrestling match -- every special moment from the first to the last of the weekend is beautiful and so achingly bittersweet, tearing at my heart as I prepare to send him back, away from us, away to where the words are all we have to connect us across the miles.

Building a train set with ALL of the track pieces

Skype, sweet text messages through the days, phone calls while running errands, crazy cell phone photos to share the moments -- all of this allows us to span the distance, but there's no way it can ever be enough.  No way that it can ever replace the gift of a simple touch, a hug, a physical presence in our household.

But this won't last forever, and we are stronger as a family because of the effort it takes to even be a family.  Despite the pain and the challenges, this is a stage, a season in our lives.  I wouldn't trade what we have for anything in the world.