Evan's First Night Without Daddy

Last night, as a van pulled away with my husband in it, I was more concerned with how I was going to handle it than I was my son's reaction. Evan is a very resilient little boy, adn most of the time, if one does not make a fuss over the issue, he may not even notice something is amiss. Yesterday was no exception for my baby boy. I allowed him to play outside until 2100, as those lovely summer nights equate to no nightfall until well after bedtime. He waved goodbye to Daddy and continued to play. No problem. But then bedtime hit. Teeth were brushed, jammies were donned, and the boy was tucked in. But then I heard the little footsteps padding down the stairs. Big, fat tears rolling down his little angel face. "Mommy, my Daddy's not here! You have to read me two stories since he isn't here!" His tiny fists held out two story books, and so we read. The tears continued. "Mommy, I can't give Daddy a hug and kiss goodnight!" I offered him a picture frame with a small snapshot of John in it, but this simply would not do. So I zoomed in on a picture of John's face I had saved on the computer, to where it appeared almost life-sized. Evan kissed his Daddy on the screen, but insisted he take the smaller framed picture to bed with him. But then it was "Mommy, I want to sleep in something that reminds me of Daddy." I dug through a basket of clean laundry to offer up a tee for my baby to sleep in, but no. It had to smell like Daddy. So hand-in-hand, Evan and I traipsed up the stairs to locate John's cologne so Evan could smell Daddy while he drifted off to sleep. Before I knew it, all was silent, and I was alone with my thoughts. I missed him.

Pensive

The other day, someone in an online community to which I belong asked this question: What makes your relationship so great? I made a reply immediatel, of course. The same superficial answer everyone gives: We love each other. Ever since the question was asked, however, I have been contemplatin what my answer should have been. It is not easy to sum up a relationship that has consumed the better part of a decade of one's life. We are not the same people who took the plunge all those years ago. Many people seeking divorces will claim that their spouse has "changed" over the years. Well...Yes, I should hope he or she has changed in some capacity. The events of our lives leave a mark on us whether we with for them to or not. Lessons are learned. Wounds heal and scars form in their place. Some of the things that have happened in the time we have been together have left a sort of stamp on us. Some is for the better and some is not. Regardless, after all of these changes have taken place it is hard to wrap up into a neat, concise statement what it is that makes John and I so special together. I can say that to the average onlooker, our relationship would seem troubled. Pardon the cliche, but we fight like cats and dogs. This man has within him the ability to upset me more than anyone else ever has been able. He simply gets under my skin, knowing exactly which buttons to press. This is only the case because, at times, I believe he knows me better than I know myself. He sees all there is of me. I don't see the arguments as a weakness like most would. In spite of them, we are fiercely loyal to one another. And we love each other madly, almost to the point that sanity is thrown right out the window. I cannot speak for John, but I can say that he has a large piece of me that will always be his. Whatever happens to us, wherever we go, he will have this. But back to the original topic: Why are we so special? I can certainly tell you it has nothing to do with sunshine and roses. Someone looking to marriage as a source of all things romantic will either be perpetually disappointed or setting themselves up for failure. There is a small amount of romance, but most of a lifetime together is wrapped up in the triviality of day-to-day life. The secret is to find those seemingly trivial bits that connect you as a couple. For John and I, there are many. Almost eight years has been composed of the little moments that have bonded us tighter as more and more time passes. If this were a movie, this would be the part where a montage plays to moving music. But this ain't no movie. This is indeed my life. So here you have it: The kaleidoscope of what makes us so special.... Scrambled egg pie and the infamous trip to the grocery store. I lo-uhhhhhhhh! Backrubs. "Marry me and put this on your finger". Cake up the nose. Two pink lines instead of one. Suviving preterm labor and hospitalizations. Hearing that first cry together. His first step/ first word/ first everything. Belting out "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy". I love you more. Wrestling matches. Junky cars and crappy apartments. The speed at which he can load a truck alone. Those eyes. That smile. That life. Crying on the baby's first day of school. Hearing "That's my WIFE" when my name was called at graduation. His hand on the small of my back when we dance in the kitchen to no music. The way our hands fit together. The solidity of him when I need a rock. The softness of him when I need to cuddle. The way his eyes have started to crinkle in the corners when he smiles and gray hairs have turned up on my head. Dreaming together. The softness of his breath when he sleeps. Being able to draw a map of the freckles on his shoulders. Giggling over bad movies and funny faces. Making fun of ourselves and each other. Laughter. Reading bedtime stories together. The sense of forever.

Nothing to Say

I have absolutely nothing to blog about this morning. Except OHMYGODTHECOFFEEMAKERDIED! The last one I had, my child ruined by filling the water chamber with dark cocoa baking powder. He did this in an effort to make hot chocolate at 3 AM while we were sleeping. So hubby, son and I loaded in the car for an emergency trip to the local department store to buy a new one. (I won't mention said department store's name because I hate them with a passion, but they are oh-so-handy in a pinch.) So this is my second coffeemaker this year.

So what is wrong with it? I have no idea. You fill it to the 12-cup mark, put in the go-juice grounds and let it brew. It has an automatic timer that turns off after 2 hours, but you are lucky to get a teaspoon of coffee in that time frame. And it is making these horrible noises. Big gurgles and splashes and hissing like it is posessed by a thousand demons. I. Need. A. New. One.

So here I am on a Sunday morning, looking like a stark-raving-mad lunatic in pajamas. My hair is crazy, and my eyes are half open. And I have no go juice. I could decide I wanted to be handy by taking the back off of the thing and trying to figure out what is wrong. But that requires energy, and I am afraid I will find a Hot Wheel in there or something.

I was up most of the night crying last night. I wonder if there is some You Tube support group I could join? A 12-step program to kick the addiction of watching crap I should not be watching? I equate the You Tube fixation with driving past an accident. You almost HAVE to look. So I watch the stuff and cry, and sob, and sniffle. Then I can't sleep because there are a million thoughts going through my head. None of them positive, I might add. And I have come up with a grievance for the military wives who post this stuff: why do you all look like you haven't shed a tear in a decade? Seriously, their makeup is not smudged, not a puffy eye in the place, and they are sending their husbands off to WAR! Everyone is smiling and posing for pictures. WTF?!? So I posed the question on a message board. And I got replies like "They were just holding it in until they got home." or "They are just being strong." Huh? Strong? I am one tough broad. But I am sitting here watching the videos and bawling like a baby. There is no "be strong" or "hold it all in" for me. I am going to embarrass the living crap out of my husband when that day comes. It won't be by choice. There will be no choice to it. It will be a completely involuntary response to Uncle Sam taking my husband away from me for over a year. Sorry, but it cannot be helped. And Evan? Might as well leave Evan home, because I will already be a basket case, but then if you add to the mix my son pleading for his Daddy, it will all be over. We won't even be able to get home after that.

So just being tough? I don't think so. There has to be more to it than that. Maybe Jody is coming over as soon as she gets home, and she is excited. Hell, I don't know. I'm most likely wrong, and I will toughen up by then too, but I doubt it. You never know until you are in that situation, I guess.

To My Husband on New Year's 2008

I always, in my mind, reflect on the previous year's experiences on New Year's Eve. And we sure have had some memories, haven't we? And as the struggles come our way time and time again, and others ponder why I manage to stick it out, I cannot seem to put it into words. But tonight is the night I live for. The chance for us to have a fresh start, remembering the lessons that we have learned as the old year unfolded before our eyes. This year is difficult. It is hard to say if it is more difficult than it has been on previous New Years. I have no idea how 2008 will unfold. I do not know if you will be permitted to reenlist. I do not know if and when the day will come when we will have to say goodbye temporarily as you place yourself in harm's way. I cannot say with certainty that you will be here on the earth next year. But I can hope, and I can certainly pray. I do not remember the exact point in time that your eyes began to crinkle when you smile. I wish I did. That I had memeorized every single moment in this life we have been blessed with together. I just know that as each year passes, we grow and change just a little.Sometimes, when time changes people, they find they are no longer compatible with each other. They look at each other and say "You have become someone I do not know." I will never say that to you. I can honestly say that I love you now as the time weathers you, even more than I did on the day we married. I hope that 2008 will keep you safe. That wherever you may be throughout the year, whether it be home with me, or on sands of Iraq, that you know just how loved you are. That no matter what changes continue to come our way, this will never change. I will be here, by your side, even if it is miles away, full of blind faith in the man I have decided to spend my life with. While you have the power to disappoint me like no other, know that this is simply because I hold you with such high regard. That whether you are working in a factory somewhere or whether you are off defending all we Americans hold dear, you always have and always will be my hero. That you complete me in a way I will never be able to complete on my own. I love you, John. Maybe, just maybe, this year will bring more smiles than hardship. That is all we can hope for, after all.

The Conversation

On My Watch Tonight Add to My Profile More Videos Finally, a real conversation regarding this decision John is making. It went like this: "John, you have to promise me that nothing is going to happen to you over there. my life cannot take any more tragedy. I will end up in a mental institution." "Then maybe I shouldn't go, because you know I cannot make that promise if I go off to war." "But you don't understand what I am saying to you. You need to do this for YOU, not me or Evan. We are tough and resilient. I don't want you to do it for us, for the same reason I don't want you to NOT do it because of us. This is about you, and whatever you do, I will support 100%. I just need to know what you want so I know. What do you want?" "Oooorah." Just like that. Total absence of doubt. Fire in his eyes. He knows.

Blah

I am at work, and suppose I am to be doing something that can be considered productive in the eyes of the Hospital. Instead, I am sitting with a large mug of hot cocoa in front of a computer screen and trying to blog. But my mind drifts to John. The small things he does that tell me, without words, that he really does love me. A quick sniff of my hair when we hug. His big man-hand on the small of my back when I walk through a door before him. These little things are us. What will I do without those tiny moments on a daily basis? Will I adapt? Or will I painfully miss them every moment of every day until he is with me again? Is there anyone who can give me the answers or do I just have to wait and discover them for myself? You know, this morning, when I returned home from work at 0700, I sat on the sofa beside him, my head on his chest, feeling his heart beat, and I started to tear up yet again. Without looking at my face, but simply with the twitch of a shoulder, he can tell I am either crying or attempting desperately to avoid crying. And he said "If you don't want me to go, I won't go." I wanted so badly to shout, "Yes! That is what I want. Stay home with me. Don't go! Be here with me where you are safe!" But then I remember how happy and motivated this has seemed to make him, and I can't do it. If he is going to stay a civilian, he must do it because he wants it, not because I could not suck it up and let my grip on him loosen enough. So I cry. I cry where he will not see me: in my car on the way to work, at work in between patients, at night when the house is quiet with sleep. Then I allow myself enough time for the tear tracks to vanish before seeing him again. He will never know, if I can help it.

And so it begins...

I met him eight years ago, this Marine of mine with the liquid-brown eyes and heart of gold. He had this smile that was constatntly turned on, with these dimples that gave his face this childlike look of innocence. I am a practical, no-nonsense type of person, and never believed in such a thing, but it was love at first sight. Cheesy? Yes. True? Absolutely. We were together constantly from the day that we met. Within a few short months, I went from being a proud, I-don't-need-anyone woman to a I-can't live-without-this-man fool. We built a life together in a short period of time, and I became a Mrs. Then a child was born. A child that had all of the good qualities of both his mother and father rolled into an amazing little bundle. What we vowed on the day we got married, to cleave only to each other, has never had such meaning as it has with us. We would build each other up, only to have the world knock us down again. If there is one thing that I would say is credited to the amount of time we have had together, it would have to be our ability to dust off the pieces and build anew. We have been on the verge of divorce over hurtful actions. We have been homeless and hungry, and we have been well-off financially. We have been tried again and again. But regardless of where life has taken us or where it will take us in the future, we will do this together, as gracefully as we can. So I started this blog.....Why? He is leaving me, and I don't know if I can cope. Almost a year ago, we relocated for my career, and so we are alienated. This blog, like a school-girl's diary, is intended to be my outlet for all of the thoughts that are swirling around in my head. These are thoughts I don't know if I can share with him, as I don't want to break him down as he is just reaching his strongest state in the years I have known him and been by his side. You see, he is re-enlisting in the military. It has been awhile since I have seen the salty Marine I married. He turned civilian. He got soft and beaten down by the world in which we live. He became wishy-washy on his outlook and what exactly it is that he wants to accomplish in his life. But a few short weeks ago, he made a decision to do this, and he changed. For the first time in a long time, I saw emerging the man I married. His shoulders are no longer slumped, his head no longer bowed. For the first time in a long time, he is sure of what he wants and how he is going to make it happen. And he knows what to do, and how to do it well. I watch this transformation, and see that, because of my love for him, I cannot let him see how truly frightened I am. How devastated I will be to see him go. None of these matter anymore. The only thing that matters is that his shoulders are no longer slumped, his head no longer bowed, and that the sparkle is back in his eyes. He has been there for me as I embarked on the journey to start a very challenging endeavor. Now the roles have reversed, and it is my turn to show, through my actions, that I will go the distance with him and support him in all that he does in his life. So here you have it....The blog of a civilian American housewife as she transforms into a proud military wife. A virtual diary of the sacrifice countless American families are making as we speak. The birth of a brand-spanking-new military wife.