Dusk settles in as we roll through southern Georgia and I realize we might not hit the Florida border by nightfall. It doesn’t really matter, we’ve no timetable as we laugh and chat and count the miles. Jackie is asleep in her bed in the backseat, curled into a ball, with an ear casually laid out over the edge of the cushion. She attempts to lift her head as we giggle at her but moans and drops back to slumber, inciting more laughter from Leo and I in the front seat. She spent the morning at her favorite pastime, playing chase with my niece and nephews tempered with the occasional cuddle session in the recliner, heaven for our little red dauschund. I’m pretty sure she dreams of them often, the visits are few and far between but she knows them by smell and sight and her petite hot dog body wiggles out of its skin at the thought of time with her favorite little people.

Leo and I small talk about making good time and how well my precious Jeepie has performed. Our unwritten rule that we won’t discuss my flight home tomorrow is holding up well, no one wants to break it. We’ve spent the last day and a half singing with the radio, passing the miles just enjoying ourselves on one of our favorites, the road trip. But this one has a purpose at the end and it won’t finish with us crashed happily in our fluffy king size bed. I will fuss and poke and prod and be satisfied by his temporary quarters where we sneak the dog in for just one night before I return to a bed to big for one, but one is all it will have for a while.

We are travelling forward, moving quickly and making progress. We’ve gone so many miles, but it still feels like just a minute. Ahead is the rest of our lives, and then eternity with our complete family. Behind us is who we were and never will be again, lost in a fog of innocence and grief, as hard to see through as a chilly morning’s pea soup. The sun has set on this highway and when it rises again a mass will be held for our Joel back where we started from, thanks to some dear friends. I can't imagine life with him, and I can't imagine life without him. It feels like he is so many light years ahead of me and each day I move but a fraction of an inch. How long will it take me to reach you, my son? I can’t fathom I will ever get there, but faith and hope live strong in the forward looking heart and they murmur “we shall, we shall”.

Jackie and I will have to be a team for a couple months. Certainly shy of our full roster, but laden with the full roster’s duties the little dog and I will forge on. Bravely perhaps, but more show than truth and faking more than we feel some days, I’m sure. Tonight I will sleep in the arms of the man who I never imagined, but always knew. Those strong, comforting arms that have carried this nation through battle and this one woman through hell. He will work hard and make us proud; he doesn’t know how to do it any other way. He will check in and send notes and his voice will often cross the miles, but I have only one last night bundled tightly in those arms before I must sleep alone until he returns.

*I am home. Leo is not. He is not in harm’s way and we praise God for that mercy. We appreciate your prayers over the next few months as we are separated, we are just grateful that we will be able to communicate with each other on a regular basis. He will be greatly challenged and so will I; his will come in the form of training and mine in the form of filling his shoes, both in our home and business. Both of us pressing ever forward, and thanking you for speaking the prayers that drive us on.