Bruce and I have our 10 year anniversary coming up next month. He was already a Marine when I met him, so I have effectively been married to the Marine Corps for 10 years. We have said goodbye more times than I can count, and I know what to expect from myself. I get emotional. I cry when he leaves. I give myself the departure day to be sad and mopey. But, the next day...game on. Let's do this. He's gone, and I have to make the best of it.
So far I'm proud of how we're handling things. We've been going about our lives. We haven't stopped. In fact, we're even busier than normal. We can now accept invitations that we would normally turn down to have more Daddy time. We make dinner plans with our squadron friends because they don't have husbands at home to cook for either. I am more free to help other people. Have a doctor's appointment? Bring your baby. They can cuddle with me. We're okay.
But, I want to do more than just survive this deployment. Even though I know there will be bad days when I just want to cry, we're going to thrive in this deployment. As crazy at it sounds, I want to celebrate. Not celebrate that my husband is gone, but celebrate all the little things. Even though it sometimes feels like it, the world doesn't stop spinning. My kids don't stop growing while their Daddy is gone, and I don't want to wish away months of their childhood because he's not here. I want to enjoy it more because he's not here to experience it. I want us to live big so we have lots of fun things to tell him. He doesn't want to hear that we're sitting around being sad. Bruce wants us to enjoy the freedom that he's working to protect.
Here's to making the most out of this chapter of our lives. Working towards personal goals and finding joy in the little things. Dancing Girl just mentioned she wants to have a Halloween party. I say, let's do it! Let's celebrate! Bring out the pumpkins!
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Deployment Sucks
Deployment sucks. There are a million other ways to describe it, but I think saying :it sucks" sums it up pretty well. And, the departure day and the days leading up to it...the WORST.
I try so hard to live in the moment and enjoy having my Bruce still around, but during those last few days, each moment is bittersweet. I wake up to see Messy Boy all cuddled up to him, and it's so sweet, it melts my heart. But, at the same time, I immediately start tearing up because then all I can think about is how that won't happen again for a long, long time. I soak up watching Dancing Girl laughing and playing in the ocean with Bruce at the beach, and the next moment I'm thinking about what a giant sized hole he's leaving behind.
Then, there's departure day. We had to get up super early to drop him off. I had already been crying on and off for days, and on the ride, the tears were still flowing. I kept giving him just one more hug and one more kiss and wondering how to make that embrace last for 6 months. It never seems like there enough words to say. One last wave, and then he was gone. Off into the sea of green and piles of sea bags.
I cried on the way home. Dancing Girl told me she wished she could stop my tears. Since the sun had already come up, and we didn't have a chance of going to sleep, we went straight to the grocery store and then picked up coffee and smoothies on the way home. I tried to keep it together, but the smallest things brought me to tears. His toothbrush in the bathroom...immediately had to put it away under the sink along with his soaps. His shirt that he left on the bed...straight to the hamper to be laundered and put away. I felt like I needed to put away anything of his that would make it look like he was just gone to work for the day and would be back in a few hours. Not erase his presence from our home, but erase the daily reminders of his absence.
I was exhausted. Bruce and I only got 2 hours of sleep that night. But, I knew there was no way we would get any sleep, so instead we went out and had fun with friends. We laughed and joked. Then, we came back home, and I sobbed. I really wanted to pitch a fit like Messy Boy does. I wanted to jump up and down and cry and scream until someone listened and did what I wanted. Cry until someone decided this wasn't happening, and Bruce could home.
But, that's not how deployment works. Right now, America needs protecting, and it's Bruce's turn to stand watch. So we will keep on going. I went to bed with the kids. I pushed down the constant lump in my throat and refused to think about how long my husband will be gone. Right now, it's just one day at a time. We will all be okay. Just keep swimming , just keep swimming.
I try so hard to live in the moment and enjoy having my Bruce still around, but during those last few days, each moment is bittersweet. I wake up to see Messy Boy all cuddled up to him, and it's so sweet, it melts my heart. But, at the same time, I immediately start tearing up because then all I can think about is how that won't happen again for a long, long time. I soak up watching Dancing Girl laughing and playing in the ocean with Bruce at the beach, and the next moment I'm thinking about what a giant sized hole he's leaving behind.
Then, there's departure day. We had to get up super early to drop him off. I had already been crying on and off for days, and on the ride, the tears were still flowing. I kept giving him just one more hug and one more kiss and wondering how to make that embrace last for 6 months. It never seems like there enough words to say. One last wave, and then he was gone. Off into the sea of green and piles of sea bags.
I cried on the way home. Dancing Girl told me she wished she could stop my tears. Since the sun had already come up, and we didn't have a chance of going to sleep, we went straight to the grocery store and then picked up coffee and smoothies on the way home. I tried to keep it together, but the smallest things brought me to tears. His toothbrush in the bathroom...immediately had to put it away under the sink along with his soaps. His shirt that he left on the bed...straight to the hamper to be laundered and put away. I felt like I needed to put away anything of his that would make it look like he was just gone to work for the day and would be back in a few hours. Not erase his presence from our home, but erase the daily reminders of his absence.
I was exhausted. Bruce and I only got 2 hours of sleep that night. But, I knew there was no way we would get any sleep, so instead we went out and had fun with friends. We laughed and joked. Then, we came back home, and I sobbed. I really wanted to pitch a fit like Messy Boy does. I wanted to jump up and down and cry and scream until someone listened and did what I wanted. Cry until someone decided this wasn't happening, and Bruce could home.
But, that's not how deployment works. Right now, America needs protecting, and it's Bruce's turn to stand watch. So we will keep on going. I went to bed with the kids. I pushed down the constant lump in my throat and refused to think about how long my husband will be gone. Right now, it's just one day at a time. We will all be okay. Just keep swimming , just keep swimming.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)