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January 06, 2013

Sometimes one good-bye

is just not enough.  Like today.  We dropped Peter off at Dulles and I can't say we all weren't wiping away tears.  Well, except Nick...

A predeparture lunch with the elder Sissa grinning...

Now it's Kelsey's turn...

Even Cait whipped out the tissues and was wiping her eyes as we drove off.  This did not stop the Sissas and Nick from having many an argument both to and from Dulles, but still, it was touching in its own right.

Oh, one good-bye.  As we were driving along the Access Road, a Skype call came in via Bluetooth. What did I do?  Well, duh, hung up the phone as I've never actually talked via Bluetooth before. Luckily, by the next call, I realized it was Peter and answered properly.  I wondered why he wasn't calling via his iPhone, until he hurriedly asked, "Where are you?"  He followed that up promptly with, "I left my iPhone in the car!"


Yep, there it was in the little cubby beneath the 8 bazillion buttons in the amazing electronics division of the new auto-mobile.  So, I replied, "Well, of course, I will turn around and get it to you ASAP!"  Except I had already missed all of the exits from the Access Road to the toll road.  Yippee, skippee, I had to wait until I hit Route 7 to turn around.

Luckily, thanks to Mr. "I had already checked in and refuse to carry anything other than a backpack" we had no worries about him meeting us at the departures area to pick up his wayword phone.  Not that the Crackberry isn't awesome, but I can't imagine the poor boy having to live 7,000 miles away from his iPhone, even for just a few weeks.

Then...that was it. It was the final good-bye (minus the 10+texts that followed).  He blew us kisses, waved and walked off.  I was fine...at that point.

Now?  Now I am between fine and a mess.  On one hand, we are fine.  Hell, we are better than fine. We have been through nearly everything DS could hand us on a platter and not only survived, but perservered.

Then there is the other part of me...the part that gets texts like these and just melts...because we shouldn't HAVE to do this.  In fact, there are people who would decide not to do so, but we don't have that luxury.

Whatever.  We knew this might be tough going in, but it's what the job requires. 

It's hard.  The ups.  The downs.  The coming and going and "WHY does Daddy have to leave again?" 

In four months (with another R&R in between), though, it will be all over. We will be back together for good and that much stronger. 

Love you, Babe, and see you soon (after I kick some you-know-what in Spanish, of course)...



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once you get good enough in spanish, you can start cursing in it... like "kick some culo." i employ this a lot in the car.

i'm glad you're down to your second-to-last goodbye on this tour... four months is better than 6 or 10.

A happy family is but an earlier heaven. i wish you and your family happy

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