Sweaty Hands

My hands have never been as sweaty as they were on the car ride to deliver Fred to the Army, today. Granted, my hands normally get sweaty when I'm nevous/anxious/scared about something, but not like this. It was flat out embarassing. Most of the ride there, he was using my phone to make videos for Max and I- in his usual dorky way. I couldn't help but laugh at him, with him... whatever, but there in the back of my mind I had to keep reminding myself why we were in the car and the sweat just kept coming. By the time we pulled into a parking space, Fred's hand and the steering wheel were soaked in my nasty hand perspiration. I was totally grossed by it, but Fred in his undying, unswerving love simply grabbed my hands in his own sweaty hands, kissed them, looked me in the eye, and gave me sweet kisses over and over with tears and snot running down my face. True love right there, people. And then he whispered that he loves me, got out of the car, and walked in to the Armed Forces Career Center without looking back.

When I finally gained enough composure to drive, I put on the Ingrid Michaelson radio station on Pandora and drove away. Big mistake on the music. Every song would start, I'd sob, finally get myself together by the end of the song. A new song would start and boom! there were those tears again and just picture that scene repeating all the way home. Ugh, I'm a mess. And I haven't even had to say good-bye to him, yet. We get to have dinner with him, tonight. It doesn't help much, though, knowing that I'll be coming home without him, afterwards.

Today, three years ago, Fred was asking me to be his wife. Seriously. Today is the day that Fred proposed. And now, well, we're at the thresh hold of one of the hardest experiences of our marriage.

This is going to be a long 10 weeks until I see him again. And then a long 9 weeks after that. And who knows what's in store after that?!

I think my hands are going to be sweaty the whole time.