With no family and an empty apartment, there really is nothing for me to do. So I have decided to throw myself into work in the hopes that, maybe, the time between visits home will pass more quickly. Such was the case last night. I stayed at work until 8 P.M. There really was not anything to do, but I guess I would rather be bored there, than bored in an empty apartment.
I am surprised at how much I miss my family. I am not surprised that I miss them, but rather how much. My duties in the Marine Corps require to be away from my family quite a lot. But this time is different. I go to what used to be our home and see RJ’s empty room and remember bringing home from the hospital and placing him in there. I see our empty bedroom and remember the long discussions we had late at night, because that was the only time we had together. I look at the kitchen and remember RJ running around like a chicken with its head cut off and telling him to be careful or he will get hurt. I look in the bathroom and remember giving both of the boys their first baths (Beth did most of the work.)
As much as I did not like this place, it was my home. It was not my home because that is where I slept or ate, but because that is where my family was. I have tons of great memories in this apartment, and I did a lot of growing up here. I learned what it meant to be a husband and what it meant to be a father.
I know that we are moving to better place. Not a better physical location, but rather moving on with our lives. I will not be away from home so much, and can be the kind of father I would like to be. Beth can continue her education, and be around the friends and family that she missed so much (I missed my family, too, but they are still three hours away for me. That is still quite a lot close than the ten hours away they are right now.) RJ and Tony can grow up in a better environment than is available out here. But this place, the only place I have lived as a husband and a father, will always hold a special place in my heart.