There's this man I used to know.
He used to be around a lot. Too much sometimes. He'd get underfoot, take over my job.
But he was here, we got to talk, I got to see him, hold him.
Heck, we even went to bed at the same time and woke up together in the morning too.
This man, now I don't see him much.
He's gone long before I wake,
gets home late.
Occasionally he'll pop in for a couple of hours,
or be here to tuck the children in
(I even keep them up late so they can see him)
Sometimes he'll catch me off guard and be here for a meal!
This man I used to know,
I like him.
I miss him.
And I am so proud of him.
He's almost a ghost in the house,
Like a ghost, I feel him here.
We remember him,
We always think of him.
Baby lips (and mine) pray for him.
He's most often gone, but he's not a stranger.
He is working.
Working for us.
Working for our future, working for our now.
He does more than many men would do.
So I will take care of things here.
I will keep everything ready for him.
Someday, this man I used to know will come back.
He will put his arm around me and we will look at what we built.
At the possibilities these years of being gone gave us.
And it will all be worth it.
