What do I miss?

Trips are great! Coming home from trips SUCK!!

Yep, you read correctly.

I hate coming home from trips. My house is empty. There's no one to share the stories with. No one to hug. No one to welcome me home. No one to go out and laugh with. No one to listen.

That's what I miss about Karen's absence.

When she was alive, I loved coming home from trips. Whether I was in the corporate world or in ministry - she would always greet me - airport, home, church - give me a hug, flash me one of those patented smiles of hers and ask the inevitable, "How was your trip, honey?" I couldn't wait. We would then go home or go out to eat. She would let me tell her my stories - the good and the bad. \She would augh with me, console me, and encourage me.

I miss that soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo freakin much.

I hate coming home to an empty home with no one to share my time away with. I didn't realize it until recently, then again tonight. I just returned from a great rafting trip with some of the singles from our church. I came home, unloaded (I'm one of those people who have to put everything away as soon as they come home - yeah, I'm wierd) sat down and realized how much I hate coming home.

It's not all it's cracked up to be. I will definitely enjoy sleeping in my bed tonight, but it's just not the same.

Right or wrong, I told God tonight that I didn't ask for this. I never wanted my wife to die. I never wanted to come home alone. So what am I supposed to with all this emotion? Huh, God?

Sorry, to be such a downer, but the feeling is so strong I had to do something with it.

Mike