OneSailorsGirl25
01-23-2008, 01:57 PM
The day I had been dreading for weeks had finally come. I watched as my husband finished packing his sea-bag and loaded it into the back of our Blazer. We made small talk to avoid the mounting tension in the room. We both knew the time was coming that we were going to have to leave to get him to the airport for his flight. The drive to the airport was filled with as light of conversation as possible, in an attempt to make it seem like any other day of the week. The knowledge that he was leaving was always in the back of our minds so there was no way to minimize the event. As we neared the airport, I began to panic. This was real, he was going, and he was going today. I looked into the back seat at our babies. He was going to be missing so much of their young lives, time and memories that could never be recovered. Their sweet faces stared back at mine, and I welled up with tears again.
Before long we were at the airport. I waited with him in the baggage line for a while, and then went upstairs to wait. As I sat waiting, I thought of all things he would be missing, our youngest daughters first everything: Christmas, Halloween, New Years, and birthdays. Everything. When he was finally done, we had a small lunch together, the last one for months. We talked about trivial things, what bills needed to be paid, and when to pay them, doctor visits, all the small things of little significance in light of what was going on. I knew he was trying to make me feel more confident in his deployment, but he knew it wasn’t working.
The time had come for me to leave, without him. Our walk to the truck was tense. I could feel my heart beating as if it were to pound right out of my chest. I felt each breath catch in my lungs. For what seemed like mere seconds we walked. Then we were there. He hugged each of our girls for a long time. He studied their faces as if to engrave their images into his mind. He kissed them each before putting them into their car seats. Then he turned to me. I felt the touch of his hand on my hair, then my face. I burst into tears as I looked up into his hazel eyes.
He whispered, “It will all be okay. We will make it through this time of separation.” Gently, he pulled me to him, and held me close. I nestled my head against his chest, and heard that his heart was beating as hard and fast as mine.
I looked up at him again and said in a broken voice “I don’t think I can do this! Please don’t leave me!!”
He brushed a tear away from my cheek and said as gently as he could, “Honey, you have to. I have to go, but I will be back. We will be okay. You’ll be okay.” Fresh tears coursed their paths down my face as he pulled me back into his embrace. We hugged for what felt like hours, never wanting to let go of each other, because we knew, that as soon as we stepped away from each other, we would be spiraled back into reality. For those few moments, things were perfect, as they should be. Finally, he stepped back and kissed me.
“I have to go now.” He said.
“I know.” I whispered. I felt like screaming, like holding on to him, like never letting him go. But I knew I couldn’t. This was my role. I am a Navy wife, and my job is to let him go do what he is called to do. With resolution, I kissed him one last time. I felt the kiss burn its way into my lips and heart, knowing that this was the last time for a few months that I would feel it. He helped me into the car, and shut the door behind me. I waited several seconds for him to turn around and give me his typical wave. When it happened, I watched him walk away before driving away.
The first week after he left was hell. I felt the pain of knowing he was gone in everything I did. I hardly slept, and ate even less. I could feel myself sinking deeper into a depression that I knew I couldn’t come back from if I allowed it to go much further. The only thing that kept me going in those first few days was my children. Their innocence was so sweet. Finally, after days of crying, and not leaving the apartment, I woke up one morning, with the realization that nothing was going to change the fact that I was alone for the first time, without the love of my life by my side. I realized that nothing had changed between us. I still loved him, he still loved me, and he was coming back. It was on that morning, that I realized my own strength. I could do this. I could be on my own, raise our children, pay our bills, and take care of life while he did his job. I knew for the first time what it was like to be okay with this deployment. I knew that in four and a half months, he would be home with me again. Despair turned to hope, chaos turned to calm. I was going to be okay. From that day until the day he returned home to me, I started each morning telling myself that everything was all right. I ended each day with writing to him in my journal, and telling my children about their daddy. I told them what he was doing, and that he loved them and would be home before we knew it. Each day was a new beginning for me, and I can’t say that they were all good. I lost my mind a few times in those four months. I cried myself to sleep countless nights. That was normal and to be expected. But, I got through it. I survived.
Four months later, as I stood on the pier, waiting to see him again, I thought back to everything I had been through, and I knew that not much of it mattered. Then, I saw him. I fought the urge to run to him, but walked calmly, and simply said “Hey Sailor! Want a ride home?”
Before long we were at the airport. I waited with him in the baggage line for a while, and then went upstairs to wait. As I sat waiting, I thought of all things he would be missing, our youngest daughters first everything: Christmas, Halloween, New Years, and birthdays. Everything. When he was finally done, we had a small lunch together, the last one for months. We talked about trivial things, what bills needed to be paid, and when to pay them, doctor visits, all the small things of little significance in light of what was going on. I knew he was trying to make me feel more confident in his deployment, but he knew it wasn’t working.
The time had come for me to leave, without him. Our walk to the truck was tense. I could feel my heart beating as if it were to pound right out of my chest. I felt each breath catch in my lungs. For what seemed like mere seconds we walked. Then we were there. He hugged each of our girls for a long time. He studied their faces as if to engrave their images into his mind. He kissed them each before putting them into their car seats. Then he turned to me. I felt the touch of his hand on my hair, then my face. I burst into tears as I looked up into his hazel eyes.
He whispered, “It will all be okay. We will make it through this time of separation.” Gently, he pulled me to him, and held me close. I nestled my head against his chest, and heard that his heart was beating as hard and fast as mine.
I looked up at him again and said in a broken voice “I don’t think I can do this! Please don’t leave me!!”
He brushed a tear away from my cheek and said as gently as he could, “Honey, you have to. I have to go, but I will be back. We will be okay. You’ll be okay.” Fresh tears coursed their paths down my face as he pulled me back into his embrace. We hugged for what felt like hours, never wanting to let go of each other, because we knew, that as soon as we stepped away from each other, we would be spiraled back into reality. For those few moments, things were perfect, as they should be. Finally, he stepped back and kissed me.
“I have to go now.” He said.
“I know.” I whispered. I felt like screaming, like holding on to him, like never letting him go. But I knew I couldn’t. This was my role. I am a Navy wife, and my job is to let him go do what he is called to do. With resolution, I kissed him one last time. I felt the kiss burn its way into my lips and heart, knowing that this was the last time for a few months that I would feel it. He helped me into the car, and shut the door behind me. I waited several seconds for him to turn around and give me his typical wave. When it happened, I watched him walk away before driving away.
The first week after he left was hell. I felt the pain of knowing he was gone in everything I did. I hardly slept, and ate even less. I could feel myself sinking deeper into a depression that I knew I couldn’t come back from if I allowed it to go much further. The only thing that kept me going in those first few days was my children. Their innocence was so sweet. Finally, after days of crying, and not leaving the apartment, I woke up one morning, with the realization that nothing was going to change the fact that I was alone for the first time, without the love of my life by my side. I realized that nothing had changed between us. I still loved him, he still loved me, and he was coming back. It was on that morning, that I realized my own strength. I could do this. I could be on my own, raise our children, pay our bills, and take care of life while he did his job. I knew for the first time what it was like to be okay with this deployment. I knew that in four and a half months, he would be home with me again. Despair turned to hope, chaos turned to calm. I was going to be okay. From that day until the day he returned home to me, I started each morning telling myself that everything was all right. I ended each day with writing to him in my journal, and telling my children about their daddy. I told them what he was doing, and that he loved them and would be home before we knew it. Each day was a new beginning for me, and I can’t say that they were all good. I lost my mind a few times in those four months. I cried myself to sleep countless nights. That was normal and to be expected. But, I got through it. I survived.
Four months later, as I stood on the pier, waiting to see him again, I thought back to everything I had been through, and I knew that not much of it mattered. Then, I saw him. I fought the urge to run to him, but walked calmly, and simply said “Hey Sailor! Want a ride home?”