Today I dropped off the hubby at the boat...
When I started realizing that I should start this blog, I thought of this day. What I would say, how I would word things and explain it all. Simply put--I'm just not sure how. The only thing I could think to do was simply explain how I was feeling.
This is our 6th patrol in 2 years. I've tried every way possible to do things, but it all pretty much comes down to this:
The days leading up to D-Day are weird. I've been thinking about D-Day for weeks, eye-balling that calendar out of the corner of my eye. It's that weird elephant in the room the week leading up. Steven is my best friend, and we tell each other everything. But, I never feel fully comfortable talking about it. Sometimes I think it's because I don't want to face reality. Sometimes I'm just scared out of my mind, and I don't want to think about the knots in my stomach any faster than I need to. Sometimes I think if I think about it, I'll start crying, and never stop. Sometimes I just want to live in the moment and not let any of it consume my mind anymore than it should.
It never fails, though--I have at least one "breakdown" 1-3 weeks before he leaves. The emotions are unexplainable. You can say all day long to me--
"Think of all the good stuff. It's not like he's never coming back. You'll still hear from him. It's obviously God's will. You've done this before, and you can do it again. You'll have to go through this for only a couple of years. You have so many things to look forward to. Look at how many blessings you have in your life. It's not like he's dying,"--however, trust me, it really doesn't matter what you or I tell myself. I can think of those things all day long, and I do! It never fails, though--something weird, really weird, will set me "off" into a puddle of tears. This patrol? Sitting the grocery bags in the car trunk the wrong way..As if there were a "right way"..??
Granted, usually they are not that loopy of examples, but it does happen.
It starts off with sudden high level of abnormal aggravation: Why do my clothes never get taken out of the dryer?? Why do we always run out of this when I need it?? Why are we going this way?? Why are the grocery bags sitting this way??
Steven says he's sorry, gently looks at me like I'm crazy, asks how he can fix it, and gives me the look that I typically need (You need to calm down and figure out what in the world just happened woman). I suddenly feel overcome with guilt and somewhat shock of what just happened. I quickly begin to apologize, and then the tears come right away. The infamous line, "I'm just not ready for you to leave!" comes out through tears streaming down my face, sitting in the grocery store parking lot.
Awesome.
I couldn't tell you why it happens that way. I couldn't explain to you the feelings. And I definitely couldn't tell you why I can't control it. No matter what, though, it always happens. That's when it hits me--this patrol has arrived. Que the more tears from realization.
I want to act like everything is fine. Positive outlook, Taylor, positive outlook. Be strong for him. He doesn't need this. Everything WILL be okay. You HAVE done this before. You KNOW there is a reason for this. It really doesn't take away the emotions, though.
You see, in order to really understand it all, you really have to imagine yourself in the whole story I think.
Steven and I met, had our first conversation on February 2nd, 2010, and did not ever miss a single day of literally hours of conversation since then.We began dating; We saw each other 3-4 times a week mostly. He said I'm joining the Coast Guard; I said I'm going to college. Perfect. We can do that together. He signed up; he picked a day to leave; I said okay. Bam, he's gone. Wait, what?
That's literally how I felt. (I will talk about this more later.) He writes me letters after 3 weeks, and I cling to them dreaming of the day when we reunite. Graduation day comes; he comes home; bliss bliss bliss. He leaves again just a whopping 3 days later. Wait, what?
Let the patrols begin. We get married; we spend everyday together for weeks. We move to Baltimore; we move to NJ; we move again to a different house in NJ. Settled in finally. We spend a few weeks together; he leaves. Wait, what?
Let the series of events begin..
Picture this:
Every military wife moves to this new city, new state, new region probably, maybe even new coast or country. We move in, and everything is new. Things you don't realize: New roads, new signs, new laws, new food, new stores, new weather, new etiquette even. Then you have a new house, new people, new church, new school, new job. Everything's new. You have no friends, no family, no nothing. You cling to your family as it's all you really know, and it really is quite hard getting to used to everything and forming strong bonds quickly. You also cling because you know your loved one is leaving soon, and you hold onto every last moment with them. They leave, and all of the sudden, it feels like, Wait, what?
My heart goes out to all my fellow wives today.
Some walk in the door and cuddle up with their kids. They're thankful for that sweet time with them, but they also think about how much daddy is going to miss out on. They think on how quickly things change with children, and how empty that fourth spot will feel in their family.
Some walk in the door and one child gets hurt, another starts screaming just because they can. A wave of panic and overwhelm creeps in, and they think about how in the world they're going to do this somewhat alone. How scary it is to have that empty fourth seat.
Some walk in the door and get ready for their job. They realize how much they're going to need their busy jobs in order to get through these weeks, but how empty that house is going to be when they come home.
Then you have me:
I am a rare breed I must say.
I don't have cuddle times with kids or babies quickly growing to keep me busy. I don't have a job that keeps me interacting with others and provides me a place to go to get out of the house.
Where does this leave me?
I walk in the door, and there is silence. Nothing there. It's crazy how empty it can feel when you know you're alone. It's a strange feeling knowing that your husband is two miles down the road on the boat for a hour or two before they actually leave, and yet you're sitting at home. It's crazy how alone you still feel.
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I wrote this blog post about 1 year ago in February 2013. Steven had just left on another patrol, and I realized that I had never really documented how things went for us when these patrols rolled around. One of the reasons that it took me so long to write about it was because it was hard to put the experience into words really. Looking back now with all the patrols behind us, I can still remember that feeling ever so strongly. I am glad that I wrote it down in order to help me to never take for granted what military spouses experience when a loved one leaves for patrols/deployments. Every person and every situation is different, but I am glad that I have this to look back on to remind me where I was at during that long period of 3 years. I feel now that I can look back on it with joy; gladness really, that we experienced that, but reading posts like this remind me of how blessed I am to see my husband everyday now for at least the next 6 months. I'm going to look back on these years with great appreciation for all God taught me through this season, go forward with a greater sense of joy now that we are through those trials, and currently hug my husband a little tighter tonight. I'm blessed to be through with the "Panic of Patrols," at least for now!
