It was overall, a horrible day with a few bright spots. There was much errand-running. The 3 year old pushed my buttons (she's headstrong. Where ever does she get THAT from??). The 5 year old tried to help. The 3 year old did cute things. The 5 year old showed me how good his reading skills have gotten. The 3 year old refused to show improvement in potty training. I put her to bed early because it was time to remove privileges and I didn't want to punish the boy. I read him several books. I put him to bed. Talked to the husband on the phone and cried at the sound of his voice. Talked about the girl and how to deal with her, how to do it without punishing the boy too. I cried some more.

Then while watching a movie later that night, something on the floor caught my eye. It was a puzzle piece. Specifically, a piece from the puzzle that my niece made for my kids for Christmas, the one that shows the kids with their daddy and their build-a-bears he made with them. He's got a huge grin on his face, and so do the kids. They've all been playing almost as if they know that their time is metered, that he will be away from them for a while. The piece I found? The one that showed his smile, a fragment of his face from nose to chin.

And that's the missing piece. The smile of my sweet baby, the man that I miss more than anything I could ever imagine. I have emotions running through my body that I am unable to contain. I'm having difficulty some days standing upright, but I continue to breathe, in and out, as regularly as I can. I remind myself that it’s all worth it, all the struggle and pain and stress and drama if the pot of gold at the end of this adventure is him, the life that we’ve worked so hard to build together.

I carry the puzzle piece in my calendar that goes with me everywhere– his smile is always there, pressed between the plastic pages, along with a note that my husband left me before he left on this journey, his military unit coin, some family pictures, and a 4-leaf clover I found with my dad right before we learned of his cancer diagnosis. Pieces of my own puzzle, the parts that make up this crazy life that I love.