I find myself struggling to stay on top of my ever growing list of things to do, to put off until after "D" day, that I want to do before he leaves, and that I don't want to do but absolutely have to or else suffer the consequences later...
My heart feels so heavy today.
I just genuinely don't want him to go. I know all about how it is his duty and our duty. I am thankful for him to do his part to sustain, uphold, and encourage what we as a family so passionately believe in. When I think about the big picture, my heart is filled with joy. I am married to a man with honor. That is immensely significant to me. However, when your eyes are beholding a massive scenario before itself, inevitably the vision reduces itself until you focus on one point, or one aspect...
I woke up this morning after he had just left for PT and I had this moment that was so stereotypically hollywood to be perfectly honest. My arm dropped into that vacant spot where his body should be, and it hit me... over three hundred mornings like this... Over three hundred nights laying there and trying with all my might to imagine that he is laying there, we're just separated by a blanket or a pillow or anything...
I don't want to have him not come home at night. I don't want to not have him around to give me advice, or lead me when I need it. I don't want to have to back in the center of all of the decisions. I don't want to go days and weeks without talking to him, or seeing him. I don't want to wait weeks for a letter to come in the mail. I don't want to wear these faces that us Army spouses are almost required to wear: peace, gratitude, humility, support, and encouragement. It's not that I don't (and won't) feel all of those things, it's just that there will sincerely be days where I will feel like my whole world is falling apart, and I don't want to have to wear masks around everyone other than my very inner, inner circle of confidants. I just don't want to. I don't want to have another period of weeks where our beautiful children are screaming and crying and angry and hurting because they want to see or talk to their daddy. I don't want to be helpless to remove the agony that we will all endure.
My very closest friends asked me what I wanted them to do when the ugly cries come (and trust me they ALWAYS do). They know that I am almost entirely anti being touched (I have my reasons...), and they wanted to know if I'd want them to hug me, try to comfort me or just sit and listen. Honestly, there is no such thing as "comfort" in these situations. All that really happens is you cry until you're so dehydrated and congested (what's with the sinus drainage when crying!?) that you have to stop or else pass out. Then you re-hydrate yourself and basically do it all over again. Throughout our many deployments, truth be told, those periods varied in length. Sometimes they last for weeks, sometimes a month...
It all seems so ridiculous. It seems so dramatic and sappy and irritating, but yet, it also seems so minimal. It seems like a drop in the ocean in regards to even beginning to grasp the amazingness of that man that I am wholeheartedly devoted to.
I think being an Army wive is like being a tree. Our little roots struggle to embed themselves in the soil. The more we have to struggle, the stronger we become. Our branches push out, and reach up to the sky in an effort to soak up more and more beautiful rays of sunlight. We need it for nourishment. We grow leaves on our branches so that we can purify and clean the air around us. Sometimes the droughts that come cause our leaves to die off, but those same droughts strengthen our roots and further embed us in the soil. And sometimes, the sun sets behind the mountains and our barren trees are left silhouetted against the darkening sky. We are tall. We are strong. We are beautiful.
Yet, despite all of this, I still don't want him to go.
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