Luckiest Girl in the Whole Wide World

English: Popeye and Olive Oyl in A Date to Ska...

English: Popeye and Olive Oyl in A Date to Skate (1938). The film has fallen into the public domain, as its copyright was not renewed. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Yeah! MY SAILOR IS HOME! 

“You must be excited to see him!”

“You’re a lucky girl. Your honey is home.”

“How’s it going? (wink, wink, nod, nod) I bet fantastic”

To be honest, yes and no. Of course I’m extremely thrilled that Pop is home. He is the best Christmas present EVER! But that didn’t stop me from walking face first into an iceberg of expectation and disappointment.

Popeye is home with us for two weeks. That two weeks has to make up for 6+ months of him not being with us. Plus, he has no car. And we live in a state with little to no public transportation. This basically amounts to the “shared custody agreement”.

Pop has had to split his time between his folks, me and everyone else. If you are doing the math that is roughly 4 days per group! And when your sailor has been away 6 months, 4 days is NEVER ENOUGH TIME!

And of course that ‘never enough time’ ran smack up against my romanticized notion of a well choreographed homecoming and my neurotic tendency to plan ahead. Every moment that Popeye was home and every moment that I was free from my derelict duties was supposed to be blissfully spent together. After all, counting calendar dates, leave time and vacations, Popeye and I would at most be spending 4 weeks out of a 52 week year together.

Reality hit as the first day of Pop’s 2 week leave was spent traveling. He arrived at midnight. Shortly thereafter, his parents whisked him off to his childhood home. Beyond driving my clunker of a car an hour in the snow to our local airport to wave hello, my romantic homecoming fell apart. There would be no dress or high heels. No overly processed curly hair. No sign that read WELCOME HOME. No pictures of a too tired but happy to be home sailor. No ticker-tape sailor kiss. No bucket of BW3 and no entourage. In fact, the car never got out of the driveway! (fricken 8 inches of snow!)

So my too tired but happy to be home sailor silently exited the plane, retrieved his belongings and was whisked away home. The only words to describe the event came from a brief text message that described the day:

Long. Tired.

The next day came a flurry of scheduling and re-sheduling and more re-scheduling. Friday’s custody goes to…. Saturday we have this, but you get him after. He needs to be home by 6. We want the holiday. He has a party to attend on Thursday. I have to work…. can I get him this weekend? I’ll pick him up. You need to drive him…… And in the end…. NONE OF IT WORKED! We all were a bit disgruntled and disappointed.

But, after a spat or two…. and a few heart to hearts, I think we have sorted it out. And even though Pop’s two week homecoming was not as I had imagined it would be. I’m still the luckiest girl in the whole world because HE IS HOME. And I really am excited to have him here. ❤ ❤ ❤

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