It's funny how when a deployment is heading your way, it almost feels like a natural disaster. It's kind of like a hurricane, or a tornado, with a little bit of earthquake stuck to it. With hurricanes and tornadoes, people usually have warnings. The sirens go off, the world comes to a stand still. Of course, you have the crack pots who go chasing down the storms, just to watch the destruction in its full force (this is immaculately accurate with deployments too...you would be amazed how many people all of a sudden are so concerned about being in your life when you are experiencing the heartache of a deployment. I think it makes people feel American or something...). You can hear the rushing of the storm as it heads your way. You are helpless to stop it or prevent it from showing up. You can hide in the basement all you want, but it's still coming, and the destruction that it leaves in the wake its path cannot be denied.
The earthquake portion is very much so based on the shock of it all. You see, with earthquakes, there are no warnings. They just show up at two o'clock in the morning, shaking and roughing you up (sometimes violently), while you basically have to sit and ride it out. It doesn't really matter if your house is built on a rolling foundation, or if you have everything bolted to the wall (in preparation for the impending action), it will still rock you to your core.
I have a friend who calls her husband's deployments the dreaded D. I like that. I think it's the best way to refer to it. A deployment is, for almost every family I know, our version of D Day. It's depressing. It's painful. It's shocking and ugly and disturbing. It is, in and of itself, enough to keep you awake in the middle of the night.
My own D Day is fast approaching. The soldiers do all this preparation to make their mind's handle the battles that could appear before them. It's funny how this chick is preparing for her own version of war...me versus the universe...alone...
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