Skype is a huge blessing. I acknowledge that, especially in light of the next statement: Skype can be painful.
I hear stories from veterans’ brides who tell me all they had was letter writing, and my heart aches for them. Letters, such a distant form of communication, and with no guarantee that they would reach their Soldier. They tell me I’m lucky. I understand, and feel blessed. When civilian wives tell me I’m blessed to have Skype, I have to quell the urge to tell them that they are in turn lucky to have their spouse in the same bed every night. But, I know they are right. Sometimes, though, it can be such a painful reminder.
Today, for a reason I still haven’t realized, was hard. I was really missing my husband. I teared up a few times and felt that ache in my heart that I’d been able to ignore the last few weeks. While Skyping this afternoon, we had to discuss a few important topics, and the conversation was anything but fun. Not that we argued, but the tone was mostly serious, and this only reminded me further that he was not here today.
His face is there, on my lap. But once in awhile, a voice tells me that it’s not his real face. It’s only an image. Most of the time, seeing his face on the computer, hearing his tone change with his facial expressions, listening to him describe his day alleviates some of the pain of his absence. The connection we have through this medium is a blessing.
“I wish I could reach through Skype and touch you.” Hearing him say this made me a little sad. Soon, I say. Soon is so relative.
Still, I’m grateful it allows him to interact with his daughter, who says only Dadda or Daddy, never Mommy. It provides a way for he and I to stay united in so many ways. It lets him call his extended family and friends to stay in touch with them. I can see his face, even if I can’t touch it. And that is a wonderful thing.
When given blessings, we are reminded they are never perfect. But, these blessings are stepping stones to aid us in getting further in our vocation or on our path. While Skype certainly does not make him appear in our living room, I still get excited when I see his face pop onto the screen. Because I can see him. And seeing him–that’s the highlight to my day.