Most of the time, my husband comes home off the road early in the morning. He comes home to a blurry-eyed, grumpy wife, dressed in ratty jeans, a t-shirt and a baseball cap. I’m always happy to have him home! I’m just soooooo not a morning person.
Yesterday, however, after a 24+ hour bus ride, my husband would be rolling into town at my favorite time of day. I was determined to dress up and be super cute to pick him up. I wanted to surprise him!
I totally misjudged my timing, and he called me that they were driving through downtown Nashville as I stepped out of the shower. I was tickled he was already there, but my heart fell too. I threw on the first thing my hands landed on, ran a comb through my wet hair and ran out of the door. When I got to the bus, with a sad face I told him I had hoped to look amazing for him this time…
“You always look amazing to me, and I’m just so happy to be back home again.”
Awwww… that sweet-talker.
But seriously. That meant a lot.
The road is their job. The road is a big part of who they are. But the road is not home. Home is where you, their spouse (or “significant other”) is. It doesn’t really matter if you’re dressed up or dressed down. They are HOME. And that… that is all that matters.