Regular readers (and friends who patiently listen to me whine) won't be surprised to hear that today, I'm praying for safe travels. Dave's on his third out-of-town trip in as many weeks, with more yet to come.
I was very, very lucky growing up, because my mom was extremely conscientious about making sure I knew what would happen in the event that something happened to her. I knew who my guardian would be, or who would have power of attorney. I knew where I would live, what the insurance money would be, and that I would be the sole inheritor. I am tremendously grateful that she made those conversations normal; when a single parent deploys, that kind of frankness is genuinely reassuring. But because of that, I've always assumed that my loved ones would be far more likely to die young and suddenly than in illness and old age. I bet that sounds crazy to most of you, but in a military family, you're constantly aware that death and loss are real, plausible outcomes. It's literally only been within the last few months that it dawned on me that it's possible Dave and I might grow old together.
I get a little nervous when Dave goes on long trips. (I don't think other people would know that. Heck, when I finally told Dave recently, even he was surprised.) I am by nature anti-cling, so I love when one of us heads off for adventure (or to check on servers and USBs and rogue networks), but there's a sliver of me that's always braced for bad news.
So, I'm praying that Dave is safe, that I am peaceful, and also that God will be with me, whatever happens.
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