My husband leaves in two weeks. Two more weekends, and he’s gone. Why does this have to be so hard? I look at the other women in the unit, and they seem to take this all totally in stride. My husband reminds me gently that I look that way, too, in public.

Twelve months. “I can’t imagine my husband being gone for 12 months.” I need to make a list of ignorant statements people make to families of deployed soldiers. That one would top the list. Because I can clearly imagine my husband leaving for a huge amount of time…and we are actually okay with it (Hopefully the sarcasm is obvious). “It will go by quickly.” Also not a comfort, in some ways, because I don’t want to speed through a year of daughter’s life, but am also simultaneously wanting that, so my husband will be home again. There’s no easy answer.

I am panicked by the thought of making bad memories during these last two weeks. I cry at sad songs on the radio–every sad song. I hate waking up in the morning because it’s one day closer to D-Day (Departure Day). I hate going to bed at night because I will wake up and it will be one day closer, etc. I want so badly to know that a new but temporary normal will arise. That life won’t seem as dreary, empty, and slow like when he was at NTC. I have to hope that after awhile going to bed by myself won’t seem such a drudgery. Dinners won’t be as lonely, mornings won’t be as empty without packing a lunch and making a breakfast.

I have to hope that eventually the fear of losing him won’t feel like such a premonition. I have to pray and beg he’ll come home as alive and healthy as I sent him off. Because thinking about the alternative is unbearable.

As unimaginable as civilian brides find living without their husband for an extended period of time, I can’t imagine never having to worry about this. I can’t imagine never having to plan for a year’s separation and acknowledge the worst could happen. It’s not normal and I don’t feel badly for not liking it.

Charlie Mike. That’s my mantra. For Richard. That’s my oath.

7 thoughts on “

  1. You and Richard are braver than me, by far. I am very proud of you, even though this time will be tough. You and your family are in my prayers always. Call anytime if you need to talk. I love you!


  2. Adrienne, I think I'm one of those people who said “I can't imagine my husband being gone . . .” Now thinking about it, I see that it is a thoughtless statement. I'm sorry. Sometimes you want to say something, but it's hard to know what.

    On that note, would you ever consider writing about the sorts of things that are helpful to hear/receive from people?

    You and your husband and Elizabeth will be in our prayers. God bless!


  3. Haha, Katie. You have not said that. It's usually strangers, right after they ask “Is your husband gone?” I know people mean well, but it always makes me chuckle mentally when people say that.


  4. Isaiah was 8 months old when Andrew left for 15 months. We saw him for 2 weeks when Isaiah was 14 months. Hardest 15 months of my life, but I learned a lot about myself…and my friends and family. I learned that people won't just up and help you out of the blue, but they will if you ask. I learned that traveling across the country to visit people every couple of months would not make life easier for me, but it would make them feel better; the constant routine interruption was harder for Isaiah and me. If they really wanted to help, they should have bought a plane ticket for themselves and come to visit ME. I learned to stay away from negative people, and keep my eyes on God.

    I used to love/hate Sundays. One more Sunday without my husband in Mass, which was challenging for me, first time mom, but also one more Sunday down, one more closer to him being home.

    We'll see you around, Adrienne. HUGS!



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