The few weeks leading up a soldier's return are probably the worst. One might imagine that it's full of excited joy and hopeful anxiousness. For me, that didn't come until about 20 minutes before I was in his arms. Before that, there was mostly weariness, grumpiness, and about-to-cut-someone's-throatness. I was on edge and thought I was going to implode if one.more.person asked me when he was coming home. The fact is, the wife doesn't know because the soldier rarely knows. John was given an estimated date, but even when that date rolled around, it was unclear if he'd be en route that day or not. He had to report for a briefing and then leave his base to go to the one he'd be flying out of. This wasn't my first time dealing with the military so there was no surprise that the plane had malfunctions and his flight got delayed. It's true what they say about hurry up and wait. I decided to screw the hurry up part and just waited. When I knew that he was no longer in the Middle East, I tried to convince myself to get excited. My brain refused and decided to go into shock mode instead. In other words, the jerk checked out on me. When my brain, i.e. my filter, checked out, I decided I should probably turn off my phone. I was a WMD waiting to be set off.
He was experiencing much more weariness, grumpiness, and about-to-cut-someone's-throatness than I was and our collective stinky attitude made it feel like we were constantly on the verge of a fight. I think this is why the Bible says soldiers should be unmarried and that husbands and wives should "not deprive one another." There was seriously about to be a throw down and I didn't know if we'd like each other that much once we were reunited. I didn't like myself, so how could I expect someone else to adore me? The fear of an impending breakdown coupled with bickering and tension made it hard for me to comprehend a rosy reunion. I hate to break it to you, but it's not like the movies. There wasn't any hanging parachute escapades or usurped military planes floating into the sunset in my future. Just an emotional wreck of a wife and an exhausted heap of a husband.
The unit set up a website with information about the ceremony times so that families could stay updated about changes since communication with our soldiers while they were en route wasn't guaranteed. The day that John was supposed to arrive was spent refreshing that website to see if there were any more delays. I started to get ready and then realized I hadn't eaten much all day. A friend and seasoned Army wife brought me over some food and hung out with me while I finished primping. I think if I had been alone, I would have freaked out. I'm thankful for her distraction. It wasn't until I was already on post that I remembered that I didn't know where I was going. The vague directions I had were to go in the main gate and to follow the big signs. There weren't any signs. I started calling people, but no one picked up. I knew the general direction of the field and division headquarters so I headed that way. Somehow, my Spidey senses got me to where I needed to be. My in-laws and parents had surprised me by hiring a photographer to capture the event. When I got to the field where the ceremony was to take place, I met up with some friends and the photographer. I started to feed off of everyone's energy. The excitement was contagious. I remember taking a deep breath and thinking to myself that I didn't want my fear and stress to ruin this moment. We'd deal with the change later, I thought, but right now I just want to savor this happiness.
The ceremony actually started early. It felt too fast because I had no time to process what was going on. The white buses were coming, being led by police cars. My heart was pounding and tears started to fill my eyes. My love, my best friend, my soulmate was on one of those buses and he was here to stay until the next duty called. The buses lined up and the soldiers disembarked and formed up behind the buses. The DJ started the chant, "Move that bus! Move that bus!" The buses finally moved and there stood my hero with his battle buddies. They marched forward and there was a small ceremony to retire the colors and say a prayer. Then we were instructed to charge each other Braveheart style. I had told John what I was going to be wearing and what my sign looked like. I stood out in the field holding my "Kiss Me" sign with darting eyes. I watched as other wives hugged and kissed their husbands, but couldn't see mine. Finally, I saw him walking in the back of the crowd. I tugged on the photographer's hand as I ran to my love. He saw me and I heard him say, "There she is." It felt like he had picked me for the first time. The following few seconds were the sweetest. Hugs, kisses, and smiles that I will hold in my memory for years to come.
The practical growing pains of coming back together and reestablishing our roles as husband and wife have been tiring. It's truly been a month of coasting through the highs and lows. He's changed. I've changed. Our situations have changed. We've grown older physically as well as emotionally. Things are starting to smooth over as we get back into a rhythm and new normal. Night time has been redeemed for me. While he was gone, it was one of the loneliest times. Now as I lay in bed, I am often awake as I hear his breathing change from relaxed to a deep sleep. I think back on those fitful nights and the ups and downs of the last month and know that these moments make the other ones totally worth it. They never said it would be easy. This marriage thing is hard, especially in the military world. But as I snuggle up close to my partner in life, I know that it's going to be okay. My soldier is home.
photo by Alisha Norman
totally cried. thanks for being honest, integral, and true.
ReplyDelete