Random ramblings - I've got my family back

Mark arrived home safe and sound on Sunday evening.  A bit of army miscommunication meant I didn’t actually see the bus roll onto base, but Alby and I were there just minutes later to greet our slim, tanned hero.

It’s completely and utterly amazed me how, without skipping a beat, we’ve all just gone back exactly to our normal family life.  Mark’s place is in this home and whilst his absence was comparable to an elephant in the room every day that he was away - empty chair at the table, unworn coat on the peg, half eaten chocolates in the cupboard, the house and family simply feel right now he is back within it. 

And it’s utterly lovely, brilliant, smashing, fantastic having him back home.  Heart warming kind of lovely.  Exactly what you think it is going to be and then some. Within twenty minutes of him coming through the front door he was back out again – into the back garden playing football with Percy whilst Alby ran around once more.  We’ve snuggled up on the sofa together, got in each other’s way busying about in the kitchen, done the nursery drop off and collection as a family, retraced our steps from months earlier on our daily dog walks.  In many ways it really is like the 7 months apart never happened.

And yet they did happen. 

When I was younger we travelled a great deal as a family.  I always remember commenting when we’d come back to England that “nothing had changed”.  My friends lived in the same houses, we went shopping at the same supermarket, the high streets housed the same stores.  And the people all seemed completely the same – as though they had nothing to report on for the previous four years of their lives whereas I’d been travelling, met new people, experienced other cultures, tasted strange foods…

Now I realise how completely simplistic and stupid that interpretation of the world around me was.  Mark’s coat may still be hanging by the door just as though he never left, but he did and plenty has happened around it for the past seven months.  I’ve had daily highs and lows with Alby.  I’ve had daily highs and lows with work.  I’ve had frustrations with friends and celebrations with friends and family dramas and just plain living to get on with.  And I can’t even begin to imagine what Mark’s daily life (highs, lows and everything in between) was like in Afghanistan.  Our weekly thirty minute phone calls barely scratched the surface despite me talking for England throughout.  And now, it’s all old news.  It’s irrelevant.  Little snippets appear in conversation but for the most part, the moment has passed and we’ll never get it back.

Whilst I’d been mentally preparing for a “softly, softly, tread carefully” homecoming, my brain has been totally caught out by how easy it all is.  And I don’t really know what to do with myself.  For the past seven months I’ve focused on making sure I do good by my boys each day.  For the past few weeks I’ve focused on preparing for Mark’s return – not just getting the house tidy but in anticipation of a slow transition back into family life.  Now I’m in this happy, dazed state.  I sort of feel like I’ve lost my place and lost my purpose but not in a disarming way, more in an “I can’t believe my luck” way.

Whatever the brain is doing, there’s nothing like a good bit of late night rambling to help sort through my thoughts.  And so, whilst the blog was only really set up to keep Mark up to date on family news, I’m going to keep it going for the time being – just on a slightly less frequent basis.  For those of you who have had the patience to read this far (if any one has) your hard work will be rewarded with a promise to keep future posts focused far more on my boys and far less on what’s going through my head in future.