It’s Sunday morning, and Country Man is still sleeping off his recent trip to Colorado where the guys scoured the mountains for elk only to be deterred by the stubborn rain.
But with a view like this, was it really all loss?
His going away makes me think back on the first year, months, we were married, and how his upcoming week-long hunting trip made me sad to think about, wondering how I could survive six WHOLE days and nights without him next to me?
He would go over how to use a gun, remind me to lock the doors, and in the morning be gone before I had time to splash some cold water on my face. I remember that being a long week.
Now, six years later, there remains a quiet anxiety with knowing he’ll be leaving, mostly fear for his safety and wondering if he’ll be taken care of properly. However, those worries lay aside as my hopes for an experience only attained by time away in the mountains with no electronics or shower surface to the top.
I quickly find my own rhythm and create my own schedule, keeping busy like the independent mind that I am and thinking this isn’t so bad, I could do this forever maybe.
A week goes by and he tells me he will be in town at the newly opened coffee shop where I started working part-time, and I am so busy I forget.
It isn’t until I am wiping the counters up of espresso and spinach leaves after a hectic noon lunch that I see a tall man in a dark olive green shirt rush in, my heart recognizing him before my eyes and there was nothing stopping the grin and squeal spilling from my usually controlled expressions.
I think those Colorado Mountains brought him home more handsome than he left me…
and reminded me that while love changes with the years, it has a surprising strength and way of reminding you of what it’s all about in the end.