The Red "X's"

There's this calendar which is stuck to the refrigerator in my kitchen next to the picture of my handsome Hubby soldier. It's one of those dry-erase board calendars - plenty of room for me to write in our busy schedule. I'm someone who appreciates lists, charts, schedules, routines, and rituals. I need them to bring order to the chaos, helping ease my anxiety over so much I cannot control.  

So, naturally, I created a ritual with this calendar. Every night, after the tiny humans are tucked in bed and all of my chores and tasks are completed, I take this bright red marker and place an "X" over the day. One more day completed. One more 24 hours past. I did it. I survived one more day without him.

There have been many nights when the result of this ritual is me sinking into a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. Nights when that "X" digs a little deeper into the deep, simmering, raw pit in the bottom of my stomach. When they're staring me in the face, all those "X's" are glaring reminders of how much time I've spent without the one I love the most in this world. And some night, many nights, it's just all too much.

But they are also reminders of how far we've come, and how much closer we are to our next reunion.  They put a visual to the amazing accomplishment of doing all of this on my own. They tell me, "You did it. You've come this far. You can do this. One day closer. One day stronger." 

And it's kind of amazing, really. I never wanted to do this. I never thought I could do this. I remember how I used to count down the hours, down to the minutes, until I would be seeing his truck pulling into the driveway after the day's work. Hours. Minutes. Now it's months, weeks, days...

This new reality, this new normal, has me throwing myself into the arms of the Divine, like never before. Because the truth is I still can't do this. I can't pull myself out of bed in the morning. I can't get through another day any more than I can make my heart beat. I know this, I experience this now, more than ever. And somehow, in this unexplainable, indescribable way, there's this Presence - this soft wind that carries me through another sunrise to sunset. It's never an overwhelming feeling. I never get the sense that I'm strong, that this is easy, in any way. But it's always just enough. It is always just the measure I need for that day. It's always enough to get me through to placing another red "X" on that calendar. 

All those remaining days without "X's" are too impossible to comprehend. I just cannot allow myself to think about those, to let myself imagine all those days. But I can reassure myself that I did it -  I got through another day, this day, and survived.  

And, every night, in my quiet kitchen, I look at his picture, tell him I love him and miss him, make another "X" on the calendar, and say a prayer for the grace to get through just one more day without him.