Dear Mike...

Dear Mike -

It's the little things. All of the things you do around here, for me, for our family that make your absence cause a lump to swell up in my throat at the oddest moments. Like on Sunday nights when I have to take the garbage out to the curb. I forgot last week. You never forget. Each Sunday night as I roll the cans to the curb I look up and make a wish on the North Star that you'll come home safely and whole and that you'll be able to take out the garbage until we are old and gray because frankly, this job sucks. Today, I vacuumed out the car. I was fine when I did the drivers side, but on the passengers side I found a post it note in one of the many minivan compartments with your handwriting on it. It was nothing meaningful, just some numbers and letters strung together. But for me, it was proof that you were here. That you sat here in our van and that you thoughtlessly stuck something in a compartment knowing that you are the one who will clean out the van later and discard it. But today, I had to clean out the van and I missed you so much I could hardly stand it. I know that to most people this is probably funny because I miss you while I am stuck doing a chore that you normally do, but for me, I am ACTUALLY pushing the garbage cans out in the dark through tears. I think if every spouse had to carry the load that their spouse carries by themselves even if just for 2 weeks, that the common problem of being taken for granted or unappreciated would vanish from marriage all together. I'd just like you to know that I appreciate ALL you do for us, especially the little things. I had to put sheets on the bed and had do to all 4 corners and nobody told me I was doing it crooked. Sure enough, I woke up and my bottom sheet had come untucked in the night. And I cried. Not because my gross skin was touching our awesome select comfort mattress but because I knew the sheet came untucked because you weren't here to tell me I was doing it all wrong. Nobody has once called me over to the dishwasher and taken out dishes that couldn't possibly get clean because they were loaded wrong and then proceeded to reload the dishwasher. And when I pull out a spoon that has dried crusted cereal on it after it's already gone through a washing, I think of you and I miss you terribly. And late at night, after the girls have gone to bed and it's all me, I feel sad when I pull up a TV show that is so girly that it would make you flee from the room. The kind of show I could NEVER watch at 9pm at night if you were here. Sadly, Heroes has been left unwatched and saved on the TiVO just in case I get an urge to pretend you are sitting next to me and watch a boy show. So far, that one hasn't happened.

Okay I've babbled on enough. I just really miss you and wish for one night I had somebody to tell me that I'm crappy at parking and to repark the van after I've gone into the restaurant. Because you know what? I AM really crappy at parking and I'm sure there are people all over town who can't squeeze into their cars because I've parked too close and crooked. See the ripple effect your absence has caused? Come home soon. Please.