After eight months and 14 days of waiting, worrying and wondering…my Hubby is finally home.
Separation seems to be constantly in our stars. In seven and a half years of marriage, how much of that time have we really been together? Well, right away, I can tick off just over two full years of separation…and then add in the fact that before we moved in together we only saw each other on weekends…plus almost a full year of total separation before we even got married…surely you can do the math there…
This was his second trip to the sandbox. He was gone from February of 2004 to February of 2005 (49 weeks total), and again from November of 2006 to July of 2007. That's right…he was home for almost exactly 20 months before going again.
I manage to keep things together pretty well when he's gone. Our very scattered life together has trained me well for that.
It didn't start off so easy - in 1999, when he broke the news to me that his employer was going to be sending him away to another state to work for an indefinite period of time, it broke my heart. We were at Disney World...The Happiest Place on Earth…and I would just spontaneously burst into tears. It totally baffled our waiter at breakfast one morning…poor guy. All he wanted to know was what I wanted for breakfast, and the next thing he knows I'm in a puddle of tears in the restaurant of the Wilderness Lodge.
Our next long-term separation was when Hubby joined the Army. He went away to basic training and then to school to learn his job. By the time I joined him in Alabama I was getting used to the separation, but it wasn't any easier. Added to that was the fact that I had uprooted from my friends and family and moved to this alien landscape.
A shorter, yet just as heart-wrenching, separation happened when he went overseas without me. I should have been with him, but thanks to the idiocy of a woman in Alabama, I was not. It took some finagling, and a well worded email to a person in the chain of command, but after a very short separation we were back together again.
And as luck would have it, from February of 2001 until February of 2004, our separations would be minimal. A month here, a month there. Mere drops in the bucket compared to what we had been through in the past.
And then the Orders came down the pipe. My Husband would be headed off to a war zone. I managed to keep it together for this news. We worked as a team to prepare for his departure. Some things got taken care of around the house, and in a whirlwind of activity the time came for him to leave. I handled the good-bye really well…until I was walking back to my car in the snowy and icy parking lot and the buses of soldiers drove by on their way to the airport. That's when it hit me…with a groan I realized that there was a very real chance that I may never see my Hubby alive again. As we all rushed to the side of the street to wave goodbye to these brave heroes, I'm sure that all the other spouses around me felt the same knot in their hearts. What if???
Overall, I handled that separation very well. I was sick for an entire week when I realized that Hubby was convoying from Kuwait to his duty station in Iraq. When the calls stopped coming, I knew what was happening…no one had to tell me. It wasn't until I got my next call from him, letting me know that he arrived safely, that I was OK again.
The months ticked by and I kept myself busy with work, travel and friends. And then he came home to me…safe and sound. Alive and well. I was so grateful.
Now we have survived another separation…very similar to the last one, yet somehow so different. He is home again, and I am again thankful to have him here with me…for however long it lasts.
These separations…especially the ones where he leaves to go off to a war zone and I can never be one hundred percent sure that he'll be coming back to me…they've changed me somehow. When I see footage or read articles about families saying goodbye to their loved ones, or greeting them after a long separation…or when I see footage and memorials of those that weren't lucky enough to make it back to their loved ones…or even when I hear a particularly poignant song on the radio…my heart wrenches and I have to pull myself together. I can feel my eyes start welling up and I have to fight back the emotions that want to burst forth.
I can very much relate to all of the people in those situations. I've bravely said goodbye and I love you to the man that I plan to spend the rest of my life with…holding myself together while he marches off to a foreign land and not knowing for sure that I'll see or hear him again. The thought tries to come forward…"What would I do without him…noreally without him…what if he doesn't come back?" But I fight that cloud…stubbornly telling myself that he'll be home again. But at the same time, I am more vulnerable because of it…I have to fight the creeping darkness until he returns and brings the light with him that will banish the dark thoughts again.
I have grown in strength because of these separations. Now he is home again and we can settle back into our familiar patterns. There is no cloud of impending separation looming over us for now. We can bask in the glow of being reunited, and as that glow fades with time we will find ourselves moving on with life and enjoying our time together.
We have to enjoy our time together…because we refuse to delude ourselves into thinking that the separation won't happen again. Oh, what a pleasant surprise it would be if it never happened again! But if it does, we will charge ahead fully prepared to meet the challenges…and I will again fight the dark clouds of negativity that insist on creeping into my mind.
