Looks Like We Made It
I must say that I have to give myself
a little pat on the back for getting through this deployment with
very few breakdowns. I've cried three times since The Hubby left for
Iraq, not counting the time I watched the last Harry Potter
film or when I was addicted to watching “surprise Solider
homecomings” on Youtube.
The first time I
cried was not when The Hubby left, but a week later when I felt
trapped with a crap job at the bank on post. I bawled when I had to
drop The Hubby off at the airport after R&R and was thankful that
he didn't turn around to catch me. And then I cried again a few weeks
ago when I had an especially bad day at work and felt utterly
defeated.
All in all, I
think I did pretty great. I didn't cry or freak out when our Skype
screen went black, but I could still hear alarms and yelling in the
background because rockets were coming their way. This has happened
twice. Instead, I told myself to end the call and just wait for him
to call back because I knew everything would be fine. How on earth
was I able to keep my composure?
With
the combination of great friends, embracing my independence, and
keeping busy, this deployment was (dare I say it?) fairly easy. I
think the most important thing I did for myself to make it thus far
was to keep a good attitude about our situation. I know that there
are other military wives reading, and I hope I don't offend anyone,
but this is my truth.
I think it is applicable for any wife dealing with a hardworking
husband, or vice versa.
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Sure,
he's been gone for nearly a year and you have had to take care of
everything yourself, but bitching about it really does not do anyone
any good. I think it is incredibly important to be respectful to what
your husband signed up
to do. You should not show any hints that you are in any way angry at
his occupation. This doesn't mean you can't express your opinions on
things. If he bitches about the Army (and he will), bitch along with
him. Just be sure that you don't put any blame on him.
He doesn't want to
leave you any more than you want him to. He wants to be there to sing
“Happy Birthday” when you turn 23 or heat up some precooked
turkey with you on Thanksgiving. He wishes he could see Bella swim in
a pool with dozens of other crazy pups. If he has to go out in the
field for a few days and leaves you carless, so be it. You deal with
it. Adapt to these circumstances. He knows it sucks, too. There is no
need to remind him of it. He already feels guilty enough.
Do I feel a little
sorry for myself when I have to deal with the auto shop and insurance
company on my own when someone rear ends me? What about when three
lightbulbs go out at one time and two out of the three replacements
are duds? Or when Bella decides to throw up her dinner and
permanently stain the bedroom carpet? Yes, but only for a moment.
Then I remind myself of my own strength and my abilities of handling
everything life throws at me.
I survived nine
months minus two weeks without my husband. I have proved to myself
that I can live on my own. However, this is different than saying
that I can live without him. The simple thought that he would be back
eventually is what kept me going. Even though I didn't need his help
putting together massive Ikea furniture or changing the air filter, I
still needed him in my life. I like to think that he needed me as
well.
We're back
physically in each other's lives, but we never truly left each other.
Good job, Luv. I'm so proud of you.


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