Every goodbye makes the next hello closer

The morning Evan had to leave was kind of surreal. The anticipation of him leaving was the real part that was bugging me. I hate him being away, but at the same time I knew the sooner we said "goodbye", the sooner we could just start this deployment thing and start counting down the days to "hello" again. We got all his packed bags in the car, and he gave Scout some loving to say bye.

We got to his unit meeting spot and did the usual standing around waiting, while the guys did the last minute packing up of things. I talked to a few other Army wives, who were about to embark on their very first deployment. We chatted about the usual things, but underneath I could see the worry, sadness, and dread of saying goodbye in their eyes. I absolutely hate that. I wish I could somehow know the exact thing to say or do to make it easier...but really is there anything you can say to comfort someone when their husband is deploying? They are all so brave and strong. I wanted to grab them all in a bear hug, let him bawl their eyes out, and scream about how horrible and stupid this all is. But we couldn't. We had to be strong for our guys. They don't want to leave either, so why make it harder on them? That's just what Army Wives do. They push smiles through tears, act steadily confident through shaking uncertainty, and do anything that their duty requires them to do. I've never been prouder to know these amazing women who stand behind their husbands through anything; its such a stirring feeling of honor to see.

This time I didn't have that hysterical feeling tightening around my chest like I did the last time I had to ship him off. Its a feeling of overwhelming sadness, worry, and panic crushing you all at the same time; add a dash of wanting to hurl your guts up and that's about the exact feeling of you'll have. Fun, right? I'll admit it was probably one of the worst feelings I've ever experienced in my life. The first deployment when I told him goodbye, I immediately ran to my car and cried until I was completely broken. I am happy to say that this time around, those feelings didn't happen. I think Evan and I both felt unnaturally peaceful and a little detached about it all. We knew what to expect, and how to deal with it. The time came where they had to board the bus to the plane. I gave Evan one last hug and kiss goodbye. I made sure to tell him to "Be safe" like I always do. He responded how to normally does, by telling me that "Be safe" doesn't control the situation, if something is going to happen, it's going to happen. Typical Evan, always blatantly honest. I told him to shut-up and that I just needed to say it. That made us laugh. He heaved his pack on and made his way towards the bus. Halfway to the bus and he turned and told me "I love you; see you soon buddy." With a wave and a step on to the bus he was gone. I slowly walked to my car, wishing I felt more. I felt guilty not feeling more perturbed about it all. I guess maybe its a good thing; this time I have a clearer mind to help the girls out.

The guys are in Afghanistan taking care of each other, while we do the same thing on the home front here. In situations like this, you quickly become like close family to people, who just a few months before, were complete strangers. The military really is a world of its own. In its own strange way, maybe that's why some of us stick around so long, even when there are so many things that undoubtedly suck about it. If you're in the military the moment you meet another Army wife, you can already relate to them on some level, because we already know exactly how each other feels without saying a word. "There is a special bond between soldiers created by the harsh realities of their service; a bond which is incomprehensible to the civilian world.  Like their men—Army wives have a bond all their own. (via)" 

Tick-Tock Tick-Tock

The big D-day is this weekend.

I was a bad Army wife already (no surprise there) and announced "the day" on Facebook, only to get reprimanded that we're not supposed to post dates. I felt like a little kid in trouble at school for not following "the code" that all Army wives are supposed to know. Its like getting detention in high school for not paying attention all over again. Whatever, if we're being honest with ourselves, the Army will probably change it another 4 times until then. And I know I'm totally right on the that one! 

Not to sound like a broken record here, but it doesn't really feel like its deployment time again. I better warm up to the idea pretty quickly, seeing as its happening like - this week. I'm also sorry that this week is like military week on the blog, but hey this whats going on around these parts. Believe me, I wish I could be writing about something completely different. Yesterday we sat around wondering what we should do all day. Story of our lives. We ended up just hanging out and talking, while I snapped pictures.

 ^^^
Loves being my model

After Evan became tried of being my model, we went to Wal-Mart to pick up a few things Evan needed before he leaves. I needed a few things for our Thanksgiving dinner we're having tomorrow. I figured since he wouldn't be home for Thanksgiving we needed to celebrate it now. Plus, who wouldn't want an excuse to have some delicious food before he leaves! I'm feeling a little blue at the thought of Evan leaving, but on the other hand, the sooner we get goodbye over with, the sooner we get to say hello again.

I'm personally ready for the hello already.

I'm getting fatter as we speak.

I have a confession to make.

It's embarrassing.

I sat in this very spot all day. 

I'm talking12 hours now. 

As soon as Evan said audios, I parked my derriere here and I haven't moved except to do important things. You know, like pee, let scout in/out, and eat junk. 

Complete junk. All day.

Stuff like this: 

 //Saltines//cheese//mustard//

Along with left over birthday Shrimp Alfredo, ice cream with fudge, cinnamon sugar pop tarts with a glass of milk, hummus and chips, a cup of tea, mallow cups, bad, bad, bad stuff.

 Scout did this:

If you can't tell hes pouting. 

I guess he got over the whole I-hate-dad stunt. 

He was bawling like a little baby, begging Evan to take him along, while he was packing the car. I guess he is stuck with just me again, which I'm pretty positive he won't mind. 

Voldemort

Spring is here. 

Spring daffodil's on our table

  This morning a grumbling thunderstorm woke me up. I crawled out of bed and grumbled along with it as I walked down the hall and into the living room to let Scout out. As I opened the door a wall of damp, sweet musty spring air floated around me into the house. It immediately changed my dark morning mood. I couldn't help but let a small smile slide over my lips, as though someone had left a sweet surprise on my doorstep. I felt a little lighter, refreshed, new, calm, and clean. On the way home from work this whole week, I've driven home in a blissful state by rolling my windows down. I picked daffodil's from my front yard to enjoy while eating dinner. After dinner on my walk with Scout, the neighborhood was buzzing for the first time. The sun was shining, the skies were blue. Kids were playing basketball and riding bikes, dads were tinkering in the garage, moms were screaming at their kids to not go so far; it was great! People were alive again! They weren't forced to stay holed up in front of the bland living room TV. The grey wash of winter has melted. Blinds of windows were pried open like rusty hinges. I saw a robin for the first time, and noticed small pale green buds dabbing each tree branch. Newborn weeds were starting to push through the cement cracks of the sidewalk. I've shrieked with excitement every evening when the sun seems to stretch out the day, by lingering just a few minutes longer. 

Spring intoxicates people like a good perfume. But seeing as I don't wear perfume, that might be a bad analogy for me to use properly. Spring intoxicates me like the smell of peeling back the sheets and climbing into a freshly made bed, or the smell of when you open a box of black tea for the first time, having a fully clean, and organized house, or Cascade. You always take a moment to inhale deeply and slowly. (Except with Cascade, promise!)

This year I want to have the spring bug. I want to become hopelessly hyper, listen to the birds chirp, and take my shoes off and walk in the cool, damp grass. It's become increasingly difficult to resist it's welcoming charm. I've tried to ignore spring this year and push it away. Because this year spring means nothing good to me.

Spring means pouring over detailed packing lists. Spring means begrudgingly spending money on unwanted boots, bags, knives, and gear. Spring brings training. Spring brings stress. Spring brings tears. Spring brings one less night together. Spring brings silent dinners and melancholy air. Spring brings the unknown. Spring brings worry. Spring brings a simmering panic. Spring means planning to not to plan. Spring means standing in a gravel parking lot alone. Spring brings duty. Spring brings war. Spring brings goodbyes.

 Each sweet songbird chirping sounds like a crow. Blooming trees are tinged with bitter flower buds. Even the soft breeze feels like it might be trying to knock me down. The good feeling of spring is being smothered by the grasp that tightens around my chest. Everyday it slowly clenches tighter and higher. This is how I feel about the "D word." It's like saying You-Know-Who's name out loud...Voldemort...Deployment...they both have the same ring to me, and general feelings of animosity, angst, and affliction.

As much as deployments suck, they don't last for forever. (Although it might seem like it sometimes) Honestly Evan and I are really good at the goodbye thing. Almost too good in my opinion. We love being together and work great together, but we aren't the kind of couple that need each other to function. This summer I'm so excited to be able to visit my family and friends all around the US. What other wife gets the opportunity to live the semi-single life again? I know this might sound like I'm being heartless, but I promise I miss him every single day that he is gone. AND I probably worry enough to poop a cow, but at some point you just have to realize its part of the job, it's going to happen. The day he steps off that plane to come home is unlike any other feeling I will ever experience. So why not just take the bad as bad, the good as great, and remember to be thankful for every single minute you have together while you can.