3 weeks, followed by 9 months

When Thomas took his new job, we knew he would have to go to multiple, lengthy trainings. His first training lasted for a week in November. His second was scheduled for January, to last 3 weeks. When his dad was diagnosed with cancer in mid-December, he and his bosses agreed to push training back a month to allow him to work through the current family changes. Thus came Feb. 13, the day before Valentine's day, and Thomas left for Pennsylvania to spend 3 weeks learning the ins and outs of the spinal system. I don't think there is really any way to prepare for spending an extended period of time away from the person you feel most connected to, but we did our best. I starting scheming a secret home project makeover, made arrangements to spend a weekend in Atlanta with friends, scheduled a time for my Mom and Aunt to visit, and took on more than my little plate could handle with a church fundraiser. Filling my time could only make it pass faster ... that was my motto. Thomas took a different more practical approach. He made a box for his mail and set up a Bill Pay system for the bills he typical pays. He changed his voicemail and email to "out of town" messages. He actually started packing in advance.
The Saturday before he left, I was walking through the house putting away laundry and generally cleaning while Thomas worked on the computer in his study. As I left our bedroom, a small yellow square caught my eye. I backed up and looked at the door frame. A little yellow post-it note had found it's way onto the doorjamb to our room, complete with the Macon police department phone number. I looked around and looked at the post-it note again.

"Thomas," I yelled to the study, "Did you put macon's police's number on the door to our bedroom?"
"Yes," His voice sounded bored and unsurprised.
"Seriously?" What did he think might happen while he was gone?
"I worry about you. What if someone's there and you're like 'Oh no what's the number?' and you can't find it?" His voice got louder as I made my way back through the house to the study. I finally arrived at his last word, and peeked in at him working away on his computer.
"Ever heard of 911?" He looked up at me, wide-eyed, and I started laughing.
"Uh .. ha. No, what's that? Do you have to dial the area code?" He looked down at his keyboard and back at me with mock confusion on his face.
"You are so retarded."

Three weeks was tough to handle. I know people do way more, especially those with military family members, but for us, three weeks was hard enough. But every day when I got up and saw that post-it note as I drug myself into the bathroom to shower, I smiled and knew, that sweet man was thinking about me too.

Thomas got back on Friday, March 4. We made it through the 3 weeks (with one visit, generously provided by his parents) and the next day we got to enjoy a whole day devoted to having been married for 9 months! And I never even had to use the post-it!