By the time you read this, my soldier will be home from a deployment.
It snuck up on us this time around. A few months ago they said he might go home early if they could find a replacement for him. There was a lot of “maybe this” and “maybe that.”
It dragged on for months. I’m used to that kind of Army talk.
Then all of a sudden he says, “Hey, I’m coming home in two weeks.”
I love those first few weeks when I PCS to a new place. Undaunted by a lack of household goods or limited leave, I load my family up every morning to go out exploring our new home. Driving around the installation aimlessly but full of intention.
We speculate on which park we will enjoy walking to the most or which of a town’s kitschy diners we will frequent on Sundays after church. Taking it all in. Learning the main roads at first, the way to the commissary, the PX, then gradually picking up on the backways and roundabout shortcuts. By the time your stay is halfway up, you know how to avoid gate traffic and where to go to meet your friends for coffee or lunch. Though no matter how well you have become acquainted with it, the town you leave is seldom the same town when your moving truck arrived. The place you have all your socials closes down and is replaced by another restaurant, new boutiques open on Main Street. Of course, just before you leave, you begin discovering fascinating places and activities that have been there all along, but you never knew.
Our marriages are similar.
“Got any Valentine’s Day plans?”
That simple question can evoke a range of reactions from women all over world, but to a milspouse with a loved one downrange, you may want to take a step back when asking.
Unfortunately, like New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day is often greeted with unrealistic expectations. If you have a love in your life, it is a day of plans and giddiness. If you are without your love, let’s just call you the Grinch That Stole Valentine’s Day.
But you don’t have to be!
Don’t let the title fool you, my husband isn’t really invisible. But I’m going to be completely honest here—it sure feels like it at so many points in this military life.
He’s a true superhero. He jets off right in the middle of a toddler meltdown to save the world. Who could be mad at that? People swoon over superheroes.
So why, at times, have I felt as though I spend more time with the bagger at Kroger than my own husband?
I just spent the last hour researching how to cook fish that you catch yourself. Like, fish out of a lake. Specifically, three rainbow trout and a large-mouth bass that we caught on a recent fishing trip with my son’s Cub Scout pack.
Have you ever been to a Cub Scout Trout-a-ree? Me neither.
At least, up to that point. When that excited little boy asked me if we were going fishing, I had to swallow a groan and then felt just a tinge of panic.
Quick regroup. Pull it together. Make a plan.
Realize I have no idea how to pull off a successful fishing trip.
“Letting you know… I’m deploying on Friday.”
This was the text I received one morning as I was getting ready to begin my day. My friend, Catherine, along with so many others, would be deploying somewhere overseas for who knows how long and doing who knows what.
Her text was one of many. By the end of the first week, I was on a roller coaster of “guess what?” I saw couples rushing to the PX to pick out wedding bands. Another friend of mine bought a very early birthday cake for her daughter. My little ones were coming home from school sharing their sadness with me, almost daily, about the news of yet another friend gone.
Deployments have a way of moving families around the globe.
We hear it all the time. “It’s only once a month! It’s not that big of a deal!”
Truth is, it really is a big deal. Because those weekends are the worst.
Those are the weekends that all the ballgames, family commitments, and kids getting sick will happen.
Those are the weekends when the kids will throw every ‘tude known to man both at you and at each other.
Those are the weekends that all Hades breaks loose everywhere. Oh! And something always breaks!
Those are the weekends you question yourself the most.
Our service members carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Their burden is shared by us, the people who love them. The act of taking on this kind of stress is taxing. Our ability to live fully ourselves is more important than ever. But sometimes, we struggle.
2019 was a rough year for me. The only thing more unbalanced than my mental health was my diet. I had such high hopes for 2020—I even made a resolution to be immerse myself in better, more positive thinking habits.
All of that came to a screeching halt last week as I watched our troops deploying and rockets flying over al-Asad.
The “friendly” meme drop came just as I had begun to calm down from the initial here-we-go-again panic. The fuzzy-greenish haze of worry began to slowly sharpen into a red-hot fury of rage. Did my non-military friend really just send me a meme reminding me to “think good thoughts?”
You have got to be kidding me right now.
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