Waiting...

Hubby comes homes home in a week. Needless to say, I am very excited. The past ten months have gone. And I say that because I can't really say that they flew, at times they dragged, the best description is to say that they went. Months ago, I would look at a week to go and say it was nothing, but I have felt that the past few weeks have gone by slower than any other moment thus far. The closer we get, the slower they go. It's obnoxious really.

As the day nears, I can't help but feel like it will never come. I can't help but feel like it will never come true. I cannot picture myself at the airport greeting Hubby at his gate and running into his arms. Call me a pessimist, but I guess I just don't believe that things will happen until they do. Maybe I've developed that attitude as a result of being hurt by the Army so many times. I wonder how many women feel this way, and how many soldiers too.

So here I wait, seven more days. Hopefully they will be painless and quick. I will be waiting for my dream to become reality. Let's hope that the Army doesn't interfere.

On the horizon

Yesterday may have been one of the best days since Hubby left. We finally found out his dates for R&R! In just about three weeks, he will be home here with me. I cannot wait! After he gave me the news and I jumped and danced around the room and called Biscuit and discussed outfits, I thought, "crap, I have a lot to do." I made a list of things that I need to get done before he gets here and realized that while there is a lot to do, it will be fun... and most of it is materialistic errands like getting my hair done, my eyebrows waxed, getting a pedi/mani and picking out the outfit I will wear to pick him up at the airport. Geez, I sound like one of those girls I detest, but whatever, it is all worth it, besides I have to be looking my best when Hubby walks through those doors.

I found out through my FRG (family readiness group) that if I go to the airport's USO with Hubby's flight number and a military ID, then they will give me a pass so I can meet Hubby at his gate. It may sound so simple, but this really makes me happy. I won't have to wait for Hubby to saunter through the terminal to baggage claim. In previous trip to pick him up at the airport, I have found that Hubby doesn't exactly rush to get to baggage, but takes his sweet time, even when I called to tell him to hurry up!

Almost exactly ten months after Hubby left me standing there in Hawaii as I watched him roll away into the unknown, he will be coming home. Even though it's for a little over two weeks, it is exactly what I need to find the strength to pull though the next four months until he is home for good. R and R just can't come soon enough, I am so glad that it is finally on the horizon.

Naive Me

After my short-lived stint at Liberty Mutual, I was caught between a rock and a hard place when it came to finding a job. I needed to find something to do to keep me busy until Hubby's R&R, which was supposed to be in just a few days but got pushed to October, but I also needed a job with the flexibility to take three weeks off while Hubby was home. After graduation in August, finding a job and taking three weeks off after working there for only three weeks seemed pretty impossible and irresponsible to say the least. I am not the type of person who can just sit at home a do nothing all day, I would go crazy; I needed to find something to do. I played with numerous volunteering ideas from working at the VA hospital to coaching field hockey. Well, the latter stuck. I got in touch with my high school coach and she was thrilled at the idea of my helping out with JV and Varsity. Since late August I have been down at the school every afternoon, going to the games and trying to get the girls in shape. It has been great, I love feeling like I am helping out and doing something worthwhile. Most importantly, coaching has been keeping me busy. Which, as I have said numerous times before, is the most critical thing for me to do since Hubby has been gone. Not only that though, it gives me an alibi. 

Now, I don't mean that in a conniving manner. Whenever I see someone I haven't seen in a long time, the question always arises. "So what are you doing these days?" or "What brings you back to the area?" When I first came home my ignorant, naive self would tell the truth and explain in detail why I, a recent college grad, was living back in my small podunk hometown, with my parents nonetheless. From about December to May I explained it. "Well, I got married last summer and my husband is in the military and he's in Iraq right now, so I'm living at home with my parents until he comes home. I took some time off of school so now I'm finishing up my classes online." Silly me. 

My mom and I went to the Fall Fest in town this morning and I was confronted with two women that I haven't seen in years. My sixth grade language arts teacher and a former boss' best friend/mother of a guy I went to high school with. Obviously in this situation, they both asked the question, "so what have you been up to lately?" and "what are you doing back here?" I smiled and replied, "oh, well I've been assistant coaching JV and Varsity field hockey at the high school. It's great, it has been a lot of fun." That was that. Both women smiled and replied something on the lines of "that must be great Silv (the coach) must love having you." No explanation of Hubby's being in Iraq, no fake, awkward sympathy, just a smile. I just wish I had thought of this sooner. 

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Thank you.

It has been so easy to feel alone since Hubby has left. Alone in the sense that no one else understands what I am going through. Alone in that even though our whole family is enduring this, my life is the only one that has drastically changed. Obviously, Hubby and my family has been extremely supportive as have my friends, but when push comes to shove, they just don't get it, and I wouldn't or couldn't expect them to. As I have said before, the only people that truly understand are those who have done it before. 

I have always found comfort in knowing that I am not alone in the sense that many women have done this before, many are doing it now and there will be many more in the future. All of which have endured the pain. There are two types of comforting people, those who have already endured and those who are enduring. I have been blessed with both, all of whom I can consider great friends. I have mentioned Blaze and Biscuit numerous times before. They are both amazing friends who have been so comforting and supportive, listening when I need to talk and offering advice when need be. I have also found comfort in a fiancee of a coworker of Hubby's, CityGirl. Since we have been going through the same deployment, we can share our struggles and excitements and countdown together.

While Blaze and Biscuit offer experience and CityGirl is going through the same thing, it is not my implication that they are the only three people in whom I find support. As I previously mentioned, my family, Hubby's family, my wonderful friends and even Hubby's friends have consistently been checking up on me and keeping me company and I am forever grateful. Their comfort and support mean more than I could ever begin to explain. 

 I am lucky to have so many wonderful people in my life that I have been able to lean on throughout this experience. I really just wanted to acknowledge anyone and everyone who has been here throughout the last nine months and thank them for everything they do, even if they do not realize it. More than you know, thank you. 

Journey of Life

It's hard to believe that it has almost been nine months since Hubby left. Looking back on previous years without Hubby, so much seemed to occur. 

By the time Hubby comes home for R&R it will have been ten months since we have seen each other. Almost a year. That is a long time. We've been married for just about 14 months, and we have been together for two and a half of those. It's pretty ridiculous if you ask me. 

In the past nine months, a lot has happened. I reacquainted myself with my friends, got myself into good shape, developed a gym habit, finished all my classes, graduated from college, visited my in-laws in San Diego, visited my sister and her family in New Mexico, had a job, lost a job, started assistant coaching JV and varsity field hockey and am training to run my first 5k. 

While I feel that I have accomplished a lot since Hubby has been gone, I still feel that I have not done nearly as much as I had in previous, pre-Hubby times. My life is going forward, I am getting older and reaching many goals I have set for myself, however, a part of me still lingers in the past. While my life is moving forward, my marriage is at a standstill. Hubby and I of course are growing together through this deployment, but all I can base it off of is the past. Reality is that Hubby has missed nine months of my life and will miss another six. 

Part of me wants to enjoy this year and live in the moment, but most of me just yearns for the day when Hubby and I can live life together. When no longer do I have to tell Hubby about the little things or the big things and send pictures so he can see what happened. I cannot wait for the day when we can celebrate the successes of our lives together. I cannot wait for the day when I no longer have to stop my walk of life to look back and see if Hubby is still there. I want to glance to my side and see him next to me. 

Always flexible

At this point in my life and marriage to a soldier, I should know by now that the Army controls our life and at any moment in time, without any notification, they can change any and everything. 

Hubby and I have been so excited about his upcoming R&R in September. He was supposed to find out the exact date he was going to be leaving this past weekend and he was sure given an answer. My phone rang Saturday morning and giddy, I answered the phone. We carried on as usual for a while and then Hubby said, "I have some bad news." My stomach tightened. But I thought, "Hubby's on the other line, how bad could it be?" He explained that there were too many people signed up to go home in September and his leave date was bumped back to October. 

Now, more people would say, "oh, it's just another month." Well, let me explain that when you have been counting down to a specific date for months and months, to add another month onto that is pretty devastating. Now, he could come home in the beginning of October, which would only be two weeks after his previous date. After a few days of letting this sink in and it's not thaaat bad, but still frustrating. 

Looking back on how I acted, it was pretty ridiculous. I was mad, pissed off, livid really. When Hubby told me the news, I was with a bunch of friends so it didn't really sink in. I told Blaze about what happened and he offered, "don't take it out on him." The next day, after the weekend was over and it all began to sink in, I got even more mad. And what did I do? I took it out on Hubby. Yelled at him, blamed him, the whole nine yards. I know Hubby was mad too and we both took it out on each other. For no reason at all, it's the Army that is to blame. 

I suppose I was looking for someone to vent my anger to, someone to blame, someone to get mad at for making it even longer until I get to see my husband. He was the easiest person to blame. I am disappointed in myself for how I handled the situation, but have learned from it. This is just another reminder that the Army rules our lives, they just wanted to make sure we remembered and we sure do. 

College, fate and graduation

I still remember the day I packed up life as I knew it and headed off to my freshman year at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. I was scared, petrified really. Lainey and I agreed that we would not live together or hang out for the first few weeks so we could make our own friends. Well, that lasted about three days. I remember walking across campus and finally seeing Lainey like it had been years, a familiar face was the exact remedy I needed. 

I had a hard time transitioning into college and still believe that I really should have taken a year off after high school, I just wasn't ready. Coming from a town like mine where my graduating class had 78 students, I knew everyone, everyone knew me and everyone knew each other's life stories. After moving into the Umass dorms, I realized that not only did I not know anyone, they didn't care to know my life stories. My freshman experience was less than fabulous. I consistently dealt with girls that Lainey, Stac and I dubbed "biddies." You know the type, think NY or Jersey girl stereotype, who is just a little too tan, a little too blonde, a little too dumb and wears little clothing. The girls who wear mini-skirts and pumps to class in the middle of the winter and is dressed to the nine's to walk across campus (a 30 minute walk) when it is below 10 degrees, plus wind. Before Umass, I didn't know these girls really existed except in movies, they just rubbed me the wrong way, especially since they all seemed to live in my dorm. 

After time, I realized that in-state and some out-of-state students all were hanging out with their friends from high school. Some of the high school groups became friends with other high school groups, but very few did not acknowledge their hometown friends. What a relief for me. Lainey, Stac and I were pretty much inseparable. Freshman year came and went and while coming into my sophomore year, I realized that Umass was not for me. I could not picture myself continuing another 3 years and being content as a graduate from Umass Amherst. Granted, the Umass School of Business is ranked one of the top in the nation alongside programs at Harvard and Yale. But that just wasn't enough for me. I wanted to get out and see a different part of the world. If I didn't leave Umass, I would never leave Massachusetts. After doing my research and finding a school with a decent journalism program (because that was what I intended to change my major to) I decided upon the University of South Carolina. 

On January 1, 2005 my parents and I were heading down 95 with a carful of my college stuff, clothes, decorations, bedding, everything you could imagine. I had left my life, my friends and my family and was headed to Columbia, SC, where I did not know a soul. I had chatted with my roommate over instant messenger briefly and she seemed nice enough. I was nervous, but not in a bad way as I was when I left for Umass, it was an excited nervous. 

After settling into life down south, my roommate, Megs, and I became fast friends. We were soon inseparable. We did everything together. She became more of a sister than family. One of those rare friends that you only find a few of in your lifetime. After school ended, she was moving down to Charleston, SC with a bunch of our guy friends from the Citadel. I headed down to help her move in. The night we arrived, we were lounging around with the guys, having a few drinks. I was laying on the futon and suddenly, this guy I had never met before strolled in. I glanced up and immediately noticed how good-looking he was, blond hair, blue eyes, tan skin, perfection. After introducing ourselves, I pulled Megs into the kitchen.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Oh, Scotty?" she smiled. "Ash, he has a serious girlfriend, plus he's a huge flirt."

Disappointed, we returned to the bedroom where everyone was hanging out. Scotty and I stayed in touch over the summer and remained friends for a long time. Eventually, Scotty became Hubby and the rest is history. 

As my parents and I made our way down to SC for graduation this past weekend. I could help but think how fast the last five years have gone by. It seems like yesterday that I was driving to Umass. I can't help but think of how blessed I am that I chose to transfer to Carolina. If anything had happened differently, Hubby probably wouldn't be Hubby. If I hadn't been randomly assigned to have Megs as a roommate or if we didn't hit it off so well. If Hubby hadn't decided last minute to apply to the Citadel or if he had decided to transfer to Dayton his sophomore year. It's all fate. 

However, lucky for us, we chose to do what we did and it has obviously worked out. I am just so happy that my college years have come and gone and now I can move on with my life. All I have to do is wait for Hubby to come home. 

As the seasons change

July is finally over and the glorious Massachusetts summer season is winding down. After having spent my last three summers in South Carolina and one in Hawaii, I had forgotten how short the warm season here is. In SC, July is just when it's starting to get hot, August is the most torturously sweltering summer month. Heat indexes topped 120 last summer while I was taking summer classes in Columbia; you really can't even go outside. But at least though, it stays warm well into November. Since July in MA is the warmest month, we have nowhere to go but down. This makes me sad, I posted a while back about how I live for the summer, and I really do. Winter is just so depressing and miserable. 

Driving down the street, mid-winter, everything is white, grey or black and dead. The only color Mother Nature provides is the occasional blue sky when the sun decides to show its face. It is especially brilliant the morning after a snowstorm. It is the most spectacular sight, the sky, vibrant blue and the sun so strong, bouncing off the white snow into your eyes. This is one of the few times the sun appears in the winter. I have begun to believe that even the sun doesn't like New England winter and that's why he doesn't come out very often, just enough to see if the snow has melted. The worst part of winter is the cold, it's worse when it's cold and there is no snow - it results in the bitterest of all bitters you have experienced. The kind where you step out of your warm house into the frigid air, pull your scarf tighter around your neck and blow air our your nose because winter had made its way inside and froze your nostril hairs. This misery is looming on the horizon.

Luckily, fall in New England is amazing. The morning air, filled with sun, has a bit of a chill, but by mid-morning has gave way to beautiful low 70s air. Somedays in SC reminded me of fall in MA and it always made me a bit nostalgic. Fall has a distinct smell and feeling. Smell of warmth and sun and burning leaves, occasionally a woodstove. Every time the weather is right and the same smell is there, it takes me back to my old field hockey glory days, the epitome of fall. Maybe that is why I love the season so much. 

This fall will be a bit different, the past winter, spring and summer, have all been without my new husband. Just as summer officially gives way to fall, Hubby will be coming home to me for 18 days, about 1/3 of the fall season. Hubby has never experienced the fall in New England, the beauty of the red, orange, yellow leaves, the smell, the temperature. 

I was never one to wish summer away, but this summer is a bit different. I still try not to see ugly winter rearing its head on the horizon, but I am focused on fall. How glorious it will be. To spend one of Massachusetts' most wonderful seasons with my Hubby. It can't come soon enough. 

Prayers Please

Hubby and his troop have been fairly lucky with injuries and casualties during their deployment thus far. However, a month or so ago, one of their fellow soldiers was involved in a fluke accident while refueling their generator. He suffered severe burns to a large majority of his body. He has been at Brooke Army Medical Center since June and luckily, has been doing much better as the days progress. However, many prayers are needed to be directed his way, please keep him and his family in your thoughts and prayers. Please visit his mother's blog on his condition: http://www.caringbridge.com/visit/matthewwheeler click on the journal on the top to see what she's had to say and also be sure to sign the guestbook as well. Thanks. 

Half way there...

It's hard to believe that we've already made it through half of this deployment. Seven and a half months have come and gone and I still can't get over the fact that I have not seen Hubby since December. Sometimes I feel that the hardest part is over, but sometimes, I feel that the hardest part is yet to come. The past seven months flew by, but July has been crawling. I'm not sure if it's because R&R is on the horizon. Being just under two months away, it seems that those two months should just fly by, right? Well logically, since the past seven have gone so quickly, you would think that the next two would do the same. Well, all logic is thrown out when it comes to counting down. It seems that the closer I get, the slower time passes. Somehow, I feel like September is never going to get here. Everyday, I think of driving to the airport to pick up Hubby and running into his comforting arms once again. But, every time I think of it, I can't really picture it happening. It just seems like some far away dream that is just that, a dream, and will never become reality. 

The hardest thing that I have come across throughout this experience, is that slowly, as the months have passed, when I close my eyes, I cannot picture Hubby's face. I can't see us doing things together, I can't see the way he looks at me, or his smile or his mannerisms. I can see him from pictures I have in frames in my room, but I just can't seem to remember what it looks like when he comes home from work and sees me waiting for him by the door. That hurts. 

When I do daydream about Hubby's R&R homecoming, I picture my giddy self arriving at the airport several hours before his flight is scheduled to arrive, heading to the USO so I can make my way to the gate through which he will come, and I picture myself having serious butterflies in my stomach, and probably calling Biscuit for some reassurance. I can see all the people filing off the plane and finally seeing Hubby in his uniform and running toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck. The only thing I can't see from that day is his face.