Momma, I'm coming home.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day.
I'm in Alaska.
Still...

But not for too much longer. By this time next week, I'll be home with my wife and children at my side. Just being in the 10 day forecast is a great feeling. Yet still, I wish I was home. Home, so that I could make a run up to MickyD's to buy you a breakfast sandwich and a caramel iced coffee with light cream before you get out of bed. I wish I was there so that I could hug you and kiss you and tell you "Thank You" for being a mother to our wonderful children. Home to give you cards and presents and to recognize you on one special day when the kids and I know you deserve it every day.

I won't be there tomorrow to visit with you at some burger bar while the kids siphon quarters off us to play arcade games. I won't be there to hold down the fort while you run off to the gym or take the dogs for a walk. I'm not home to do an extra load of laundry or clean the bathroom because I know you'd rather have that than any bouquet of flowers. But I soon will be.

I'm on my way home, Michele.

Get the Honey Do List ready. Who am I kidding? I know you've already got one going. I've got the next round of doggy do-do patrol. I'll mow the lawn from here on out. I'll gladly take the kids to school for the remainder of the school year.

Spring clean up in the garage - check.
Oil change for the truck - check.
Dogs to the vet - check.
Wash and stow hockey gear - check.

You name it - I'm on it.... in a week.
Can you wait one more week?

I love you, dear. You've been so supportive throughout this last whirlwind of a year. You are the reason for the season, Five. Thank you for being the head of the household and running the show while I've been out gallivanting in the Arctic wilds of Alaska. Your steadfast devotion to our family reminds me exactly why I chose you to be my wife 14 years ago. You're really just an awesome person. Hang in there, babe.

I'm coming home.

Happy Mother's Day.