For the umpteenth time I stood at the DFW airport yesterday afternoon and said goodbye to my husband who was accompanied by three other men traveling to Romania for a pastoral graduation. It seemed a fairly common routine to go through this airport ritual as we have done it before, before, before and again and again. Our married lives have been filled with these goodbyes and mostly at airports in America or train stations in Europe. Dating long distance while attending university separated by two far-flung states started this pattern. After getting engaged we were separated for a year while my fiancée served in the American Army in Korea. Two…