“I breathe in…
I breathe out…
Put one foot in front of the other…
Take one day at a time…”
I am a control freak. Having a firm grasp on day to day life and my foreseeable future gives me confidence and, yes, control. So, when I feel as though the rug has been torn out from under me, when I feel like I am having to start again, it’s the most frustrating thing.
“Old habits die hard.” Not always. I thought that, when Richard left, I’d be okay. Cry a little, go to bed that night, and wake up in the groove which we’d had for four months before he came home. After all, that’s a long time–four months. Especially compared to fourteen days. So, I thought we’d enjoy his time home and revert to our previous routine.
I’m not as discouraged and saddened as I was the day he boarded that bus–that was probably the hardest day and week of my life. However, I am surprised just how sad I am. He was only home two weeks. Yet, in a matter of days, that man had ingrained himself back into my life, our daughter’s life, our home life. Part of me wanted to fight it, especially knowing he’d be going again. But, I caved. I made myself cave. Even with only fourteen days at home, I wanted as close to normal as we could have.
And we got it.
And now, I am left, once again, readjusting. And I hate readjusting (Yes, that did just come from a former military brat and current military wife). I feel…out of control. The tears, the ache, the loneliness. All of them are signs I am not on top of things. So, I slowly tighten my grip on what I do have in my grasp.
One breath. One Prayer. This moment.
And I move one putting one foot in front of the other, this time having the comfort of knowing that I will again gain a sense of confidence and routine. Knowing that this time, I will see him again, that we will be a family again. That may be a long time off, but I am just working on today. Right now. This moment.
The rest will come. And, before I know it, I will be okay again.