Sacrifice

Okay…one of my biggest pet peeves is people that whine. Especially people that whine about being separated from their loved ones.

I get totally turned off about someone if they can't stand a little separation. And I think that my feelings here are justified. My husband just left for his second tour in the Middle East. This one was voluntary.

My husband and I have been married for almost seven years. We've been together as a couple for over nine years. In the time that we've been together, we've dealt with our fair share of separation.

The entire first year that Hubby and I dated, we lived hundreds of miles apart, and only saw each other on weekends. We made every weekend but two during that first year. Then we moved in together. You might think that we would get to see plenty of each other while sharing the same space. No such luck…I worked days, he worked nights. This went on for eight months…then his employer sent him to another state to work. I remember randomly bursting into tears throughout the weekend when he told me. We arrived for a magical weekend at Disney on Friday, and he sprung the news to me that he was leaving on Sunday. We were reduced to only seeing each other for one weekend every month after that.

This went on for four months. Then Hubby made the fateful decision to join the military. He came home for one month, and then went off to basic training.

Prior to this, our separations had been easy. We were able to communicate pretty much at will…and this was well before we had cell phones. We would communicate online often, and he would call me all the time.

This luxury ended when he joined the military. Freedom of personal choice was gone. We could no longer talk to each other whenever we wanted to. We were reduced to fleeting calls that would happen unpredictably, and they were short. He rarely left a message on our answering machine when he called and I wasn't home. When he called my parents' house on Thanksgiving day and I wasn't there to talk to him, I cried when I found out that I missed his call. We exchanged letters through the mail - I went to great lengths to make sure that I sent him something every day while he was gone.

His basic training was interrupted for two weeks at Christmas, when he got the opportunity to come home and we eloped. Then he returned to finish up his training. A month later, I traveled with his parents to spend some time with him at his graduation. It was bittersweet - our time together after this new type of separation would be shared with his parents, so our time alone would be fleeting. And the time that we did get to spend together was bound by new rules - he was in the military now, and under the watchful eyes of Drill Sergeants.

It was at this short lived reunion that I told Hubby that I was tired of not being with him. He would be on his way to his new school, and he would be there long enough that the military would pay to move me from Florida to be with him. I told Hubby that I didn't care what it took, I wanted us to be together, so make it happen. I was tired of separation - especially this new kind that was burdened with rules and unpredictable communications.

Two months later, I was on my way to this new life. We would finally be together, but the path would be difficult. During the eight months that I would live in Alabama, he would live at the house with me for awhile, and then at the whim of the Drill Sergeants, he would be pulled back into living at the barracks. He would be required to put in late nights at school.  I was with him, but not really getting to be with him. And for a young newlywed, that was hard.

When our time in Alabama ended, we had a month or so to loaf around with our families before reporting to our new duty station and our new life - in Europe. As the time to leave crept even closer, problems would crop up and I couldn't leave with my husband. It would take two weeks before the paperwork would be fixed and I could join him.  We had now been married for over a year, together as a couple for three and a half years, and the vast majority of that time had been spent separated.

At this point, things calmed down. We settled into life together - reallytogether for the first time. He had a job that kept him home with me for the most part. He would occasionally have to pull duty, or go for training for a few days, and after all that we had been through up to this point, it would be easy. We would even go on trips separately - something that would amaze our friends. I spent a week or so traveling around Germany with an old friend of mine and her parents, and Hubby stayed home. He flew back to Florida to see his family, and I went to Spain. He even spent a month training in Poland, and it wasn't so bad.

The turning point, and I believe the true test, came after the terrorist attacks on New York, Pennsylvania and Washington DC on September 11^th.  I knew that when those attacks happened, our lives would be changed. Sure enough, most of the soldiers on the base that we lived on deployed for a year or more. By a strange twist of fate, Hubby was not among them. He was in all actuality attached to another unit that wasn't slated to go. But our time would come.

In February of 2004, he and his unit departed for the Middle East. The months leading up to this departure were a little bit trying. We knew that it was coming - and there was a lot of preparation that came beforehand. He was selected to go on a special training mission that took him away from home for a few weeks. Just what we needed - separation before separation. Late nights would be on hand as he and his unit prepared for their departure. I took it all well. I knew that all of this was part of the obligation. We were in it - for better or worse, and we were prepared. After all, we had become old hats at this game of separation. We would be fine.

But when he departed, and I saw the buses leaving the post with all of our soldiers on them, I was suddenly hit with it. These busses were full of people that I knew - and I was standing among their loved ones - and my husband was driving away - and I wasn't one hundred percent sure that I would see him again. This wasn't him flying off to Maryland to go to work…he was headed off to war. Would I be OK if he didn't make it back?

All told, from his departure in February of 2004 to his return in February of 2005, we would be separated for 49 weeks. We returned to a life of intermittent phone conversations - but this time, we were better able to communicate via email and instant messaging. I got information from his chain of command and knew that things were going OK for the soldiers downrange. We reunited for two weeks in the middle of his deployment - back in Florida among our families. Other military spouses thought that I was crazy for "sharing" my precious little bit of time with my husband with our families. But truth be told, they don't get to see him often enough. For all of the separation that we endure, sharing him with those that share a relationship with him isn't so bad. They are family, after all.

Now we're separated again. I find myself in a situation that is so similar to the one that I was in back in February of 2004. Hubby is again gone - he's been away from home for a week and a half now, and stepped on a plane this evening that will ferry him back to the Middle East. This time, I don't have the close-knit community that I had before. No friends going through the same situation, no family nearby to lean on. It's almost uncharted territory, except that we've lived this life in so many incarnations. The phone calls will be intermittent, he will never have much to say, there will be email and instant message communications, and again the burden will be mostly on me to keep the conversation going. What can I say - he's not a gabber. But it's OK. He'll be on the other end of the line, and that's all I can really ask for.

We hope that the separation won't be for as long this time. And, as always, we hope that he makes it home safe and unchanged. These separations and sacrifices make us stronger. We know that the other will be there for us.

So don't come to me expecting sympathy because your boyfriend is leaving town for a week. Or because you're leaving town for a few days and don't know how you'll be able to make it without him. You won't find any sympathy here. If I hear someone on TV crying because they can't stand to be separated from their boyfriend or girlfriend for a few weeks or months, I'm likely to change the channel. I have before. Try saying goodbye to the single person that means the most to you in the whole world, not being able to be sure that you'll see them alive again. A few days here and there is nothing compared to that.

We make the sacrifices now, so that we can be assured of a better future…together.