The day started the way most of our days have started for the last few months. Dad and I got out of bed by 6:30. Dad put wood on the fire while I fed the dog, then boots and coats and out the door. Dad fed the pigs as fast as he could while I started distributing hay among the bovines and the old, old horse. The calf was still in the heifer's uterus, unfortunately; how late can it safely be? I cleaned up the night soil in the barn, then Dad as usual started transitioning to a project: in this case getting the bedding pack out from under the heifer so I can start work on her wood mat without removing several hundred pounds of bedding.
Of course, it wasn't a normal day. It was Dad's last day at home. I made pancakes so he could have his last maple syrup for a good long time, along with eggs and bacon, and we all sat and ate. Tea Rose tentatively joked about a Patch the Pirate song that claims maple syrup is good for toothpaste. Then we went back out and saw to a few last details before he had to bathe and we all got in the car.
The airport wasn't particularly busy, so we were able to park fairly close. We saw the [redacted] drone from the unit that Dad will be joining when he returns in May, out buzzing past the control tower and terminals. Once Dad had his boarding pass, it was an easy ride up an escalator and a short walk to security, where bright yellow signs informed us that the time to part had come, because only ticketed passengers were allowed beyond that point.
Tea Rose is the only kid who has spoken much about dad leaving. The others were made aware but haven't said much or reacted in any visible way. But when Dad sat down to say a prayer with them, the emotions started to show.
Everyone was sad but subdued. Tea Rose cried openly; Bean fought back his tears.
Dad spoke with the kids about being good and helping mom, and we got a couple of last pictures together before he walked into the security line and we headed toward home.
On the way out we admired a fountain and watched some men working on repairing an escalator. Tea Rose said, "I'm the only one who cried."
"I was crying in my mind," Bean said.
"I saw that you were trying to be brave," I said. "Why didn't you cry on the outside?"
"I was embarrassed," he said.
"It's good to be brave," I told him. "But it's always ok to cry when you're sad. Daddy going away is going to be very hard for all of us, and sometimes we'll feel sad and lonely. You can talk to me when you need to, and if you need to cry, it's ok."
"Home isn't going to feel the same," Bean said, some tears welling in his eyes. We reached the van and started piling in.
"In some ways no," I said. "But remember, Dad always went to work every day, so a lot of the time we will feel the same; it will be just like when he's at work. Over time we'll really start to realize how different things are."
I told the kids about some of the goals I have for this year, the things we're going to learn and work on and do, the fun we'll have at the YMCA and the projects we'll do around the homestead. I told them that the best thing to do when we miss daddy is make sure to keep learning and growing and working so he'll be proud when he comes home. And the other important thing is to be kind to each other, because we'll all be having a rough few months and nobody needs someone to fight with them or be mean to them when they're already sad. The oldest ones all agreed that this was a good plan... we'll see how their actions bear that out!
When we got home and after noon chores, I opened some of the stockpiled Christmas presents that I have left over from the holidays. My dear college friend "Aquila" (henceforth known as "Quill") had sent some wonderful gifts, and she agreed that it would be a good idea to save them for brightening the days after Dad left. So Bean has begun constructing a wooden train engine from the carpentry set she sent, and everyone had a wonderful time with their new imaginative and sensory playthings.
Of course, it wasn't a normal day. It was Dad's last day at home. I made pancakes so he could have his last maple syrup for a good long time, along with eggs and bacon, and we all sat and ate. Tea Rose tentatively joked about a Patch the Pirate song that claims maple syrup is good for toothpaste. Then we went back out and saw to a few last details before he had to bathe and we all got in the car.
The airport wasn't particularly busy, so we were able to park fairly close. We saw the [redacted] drone from the unit that Dad will be joining when he returns in May, out buzzing past the control tower and terminals. Once Dad had his boarding pass, it was an easy ride up an escalator and a short walk to security, where bright yellow signs informed us that the time to part had come, because only ticketed passengers were allowed beyond that point.
Tea Rose is the only kid who has spoken much about dad leaving. The others were made aware but haven't said much or reacted in any visible way. But when Dad sat down to say a prayer with them, the emotions started to show.
On the way out we admired a fountain and watched some men working on repairing an escalator. Tea Rose said, "I'm the only one who cried."
"I was crying in my mind," Bean said.
"I saw that you were trying to be brave," I said. "Why didn't you cry on the outside?"
"I was embarrassed," he said.
"It's good to be brave," I told him. "But it's always ok to cry when you're sad. Daddy going away is going to be very hard for all of us, and sometimes we'll feel sad and lonely. You can talk to me when you need to, and if you need to cry, it's ok."
"Home isn't going to feel the same," Bean said, some tears welling in his eyes. We reached the van and started piling in.
"In some ways no," I said. "But remember, Dad always went to work every day, so a lot of the time we will feel the same; it will be just like when he's at work. Over time we'll really start to realize how different things are."
I told the kids about some of the goals I have for this year, the things we're going to learn and work on and do, the fun we'll have at the YMCA and the projects we'll do around the homestead. I told them that the best thing to do when we miss daddy is make sure to keep learning and growing and working so he'll be proud when he comes home. And the other important thing is to be kind to each other, because we'll all be having a rough few months and nobody needs someone to fight with them or be mean to them when they're already sad. The oldest ones all agreed that this was a good plan... we'll see how their actions bear that out!
When we got home and after noon chores, I opened some of the stockpiled Christmas presents that I have left over from the holidays. My dear college friend "Aquila" (henceforth known as "Quill") had sent some wonderful gifts, and she agreed that it would be a good idea to save them for brightening the days after Dad left. So Bean has begun constructing a wooden train engine from the carpentry set she sent, and everyone had a wonderful time with their new imaginative and sensory playthings.
We interrupted the fun with some arithmetic and then returned to our creative play after a quick snack of leftover cake.
Before the end of today I need to make dinner (leftover pork from the goodbye party Sunday, with homemade barbecue sauce on sandwich rolls), do evening chores, and do some reading practice with Bean. Once the kids go to bed I'll clean up the house and continue drafting my ideas and goals for the next four months. Things are going to be hard, but with determination and God's help I think this experience can make our family stronger and better than ever.
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