I will be the first to admit, being productive is not my strong suit. I’m entirely too distractible. But, before Justin kicks me to the curb for not pulling my weight (or any amount of weight, for that matter), I decided I really better step up my game today.
I was off to a good start! The laundry was folded, I showered and got dressed (don’t judge me). Then on to the big tasks: returning library books before the military police arrest Justin for being related to a book-stealing hooligan–ok, I don’t actually know what happens when books are returned late. I’m just guessing it includes water boarding or some other form of torture. “Tell us where your books are!”
With books in hand, I hop into my van, and…she won’t start. Very well, I can only assume someone left a light on, or a door ajar, or whatever. Anyway, the library visit is now off the table. No big deal, there’s plenty more to be done!
On to the next big task: mowing the lawn. This task normally takes around 2 hours. I threw on workout clothes, put sunblock on my head scar (spf 100, per the dr’s orders. My forehead is going to be super pale this year). And away I go!
Just about 45 minutes in, there’s a loud BANG! And the mower stops. Ok, I probably hit a dog toy hidden in the grass–nope, it’s a chunk of burnt wood the size of my fist (leftover gifts from the previous owners, which Emma carries around the yard like they really are prized possessions).
Now would be a good time to mention I’m mildly terrified of lawnmowers. Irrational fear? Perhaps.
That chunk of wood was so far stuck on the blade, I didn’t even know where to begin. I kicked it a couple times, but out of fear that the blades would kick, I gave up on that rather quickly. Using my hands was absolutely out of the question–have you paid any attention to the month I’ve had?! I was not about to tempt fate.
Next idea: bang it with a log until the chunk of wood dislodges itself. This worked like a charm, and after I threw both pieces over the fence (not to worry, the overgrown wilderness on the other side of our fence is not owned…or, at least not by anyone who lives there). Of course now I realize that the mower is dripping oil from the top bit (the motor? I have no idea how any of this works). I’m assuming it’s because I had the mower flipped upside down while I was beating on it, but for now, it’s in a time out.
Anxiety is super judgy. It makes everyone stare at you, watching your every move.
Except, none of it is real and it’s all in your head. Your brain is the only judgy bitch in the room.
Today was Thanksgiving Lunch at school. Every year I have to force myself to go, and not be a total freak. Once again, Justin was unable to join me today, so I found myself going it alone. Which makes it worse. I can handle public situations like a boss when I have someone to hide behind.
Even though I fought with myself all morning (I don’t have to go. They’ll never notice), I sucked it up and went. Arriving early, just like they suggested. I signed in, grabbed my visitor sticker, paid, and when they called first grade parents, in I went.
I sat in a room full of strangers, proud of the face that I was doing it, and even though I hated it, I was here. The kids started pouring in. And then I realized what a terrible mistake I had made: Xander is in second grade. I was so busy making sure I survived this trauma, that I panicked and jumped the gun on actually going in.
While the first grade parents were locating their children, and the kindergarten parents were saying goodbye to theirs, I snuck out the door with my to-go container full of Thanksgiving Lunch. I hid the evidence of my failure in my car, took a deep breath and tried again.
Did I survive? Yes. Did I actually eat lunch with my kids? Well, no. But I was there.
As I headed out to my car at the end of it all, my brain announced, “good job–I knew you could do it.” Oh shut up, you judgy bitch. Where were you 2 hours ago when I needed the pep talk!?
Our household goods were finally dropped off last Thursday. Even though we’ve completely unpacked our kitchen, we have no spoons–well, we have 1 spoon. And only 1/4 of our forks. Justin wants to give up on them. I am still holding out hope that we will discover the lost silverware in a random box somewhere.
Before we left Kentucky, our kids received their first quarter report cards. Xander’s read, “takes an unreasonable amount of time completing tasks.” Justin and I have laughed about it for weeks–especially since Justin announced, “if I could write you a report card for life, it would say, ‘takes an unreasonable amount of time completing tasks.'”
I can’t deny it. Justin has unpacked about 100 boxes (probably not, but maybe); I have unpacked about 7. Maybe more, but I don’t know. It’s overwhelming. I hate it. Once a day I think we should just leave the boxes packed and throw it all away. Of course, if we did that, we would never find the spoons!
Justin has been gone 368 days. In this past year, I have done some crazy things, and learned so much about me.
I decided that being a Temporary Single Mom wasn’t enough of a challenge, so I upped the ante and took a full time job as well. Single Working Moms everywhere deserve so much recognition, especially those Moms who live far away from family or any support system. It is hard. It is lonely. At times, it seemed impossible. My last day of work came 2 weeks ago, and while it was bittersweet, I can look back at this year and be proud that I didn’t drown in an overwhelming avalanche of stress. What doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.
I learned that you can’t put yourself last. No matter how many millions of items might be on your list, putting yourself on the back burner does not help anything. This lesson was learned late in my year–I really only embraced this one sometime around the middle of July. The world might weigh me down, but an hour a day throwing heavy weights around is better than any session with a therapist…but, it might also help that Terry the Torturer is basically my therapist.
People will try to sympathize with you, but there are only a handful of people who know what you’re going through. No, your husband’s weeklong work trip does not compare. It’s true, the sympathetic comparisons this go-around were much less stinging than they were when he was deployed. Every military spouse who has been unwillingly separated from their love has been there, listening to friends who can’t imagine how terrifying it is to know your love is somewhere dangerous, saying things like, “I totally know how you feel! One time, my husband went to California for a week, and it was awful.” While I’m sure it was awful, I doubt you also had to worry about the terrifying reality that you might not see him again.
This time, I realized that people didn’t quite understand my nonchalant attitude. When you said, “oh gosh, that must be so hard,” and I responded by telling you it really wasn’t, that wasn’t me telling you that it’s easy for me to be 7000 miles away from my husband for a year–it was me telling you that I don’t have to spend the next year panicking every time the doorbell rings. When you’ve survived a 15 month deployment, 12 months overseas and not in a war zone, is easy breezy.
I also found comfort in a surprising location: the women who participated in my aquacise class. These Army Wives of yore are the real deal. My generation of Military Spouse often forget that we aren’t the first. “My husband was in Korea, but back then, there was a war going on.” And there was no FaceTime, no texting, no phone calls. 60 years ago, you waited in hopes of receiving a letter from your love. In comparison, a year apart in 2018 is a cakewalk.
In less than 48 hours, my world will be back to normal. My best friend will be home, and I’ll get to torment him in person again.
I’m a lot stronger than I thought I was; I survived.
I met Justin in October of 2002. He was quiet. And…he was just really quiet.
I dated his friend, which is how I came to meet Justin. Proof that the events in your life lead you to where you are meant to be. Justin was getting ready to leave for the Army. For 4 months, Justin was always there.
Then he left for the Army. My unhealthy relationship with his friend ended. Through it all, the thing that upset me the most was that I was losing my tie with Justin.
Then the summer of 2003 rolled around, and was a rough one for me. By the end of it, I had spiraled into a deep depression, and as much as I told myself I was strong and single, I was anything but. My ex reappeared in my life, and we entered right back into our unhealthy on again/off again nonsense.
The best thing that came from me falling back into bad habits: one night at a party, Justin called one of his buddies. When his phone was about to die, he gave Justin my number. Finally, my friendship with Justin was no longer dependent on my being in an unhealthy relationship.
Thus began the most epic friendship of all time. We talked on the phone every night, for 2 hours or more. You might not think much of it, but this was a pretty big deal, because I hate talking on the phone. The greatest thing to ever happen in my life is text messaging.
I loved him. We only said it to each other a million times a day. He would tell me I should just marry him, and I would tell him he was being silly–we never even dated!
I would even talk to his friends, and they would say things like, “why won’t you marry Justin!?” Giggles giggles giggles. Oh my goodness, I can’t marry him! He’s my best friend!
When Justin left for Ranger School, we talked for hours the night before he left. We said our good nights and hung up; he called me back and said, “I just wanted to tell you I love you.” Aww Justin, I love you too! I was getting my hair dyed at the time, and the girl who was doing it said, “oh my gosh Sam! That was so sweet!” Yeah yeah. He’s the sweetest.
For the next 9 weeks, he wrote to me every day. If you are unaware of Ranger School, the sleep deprivation is insane. There were letters that would start out legible and then …______ “I fell asleep writing to you last night.” Those letters are a window into sleep deprivation-induced insanity. The anticipation of receiving those letters was intense! At one point he said an instructor actually told him no guy ever wrote as many letters as he did.
I ended up in a very short-lived, weird relationship with a guy who was…gross. Low point. When Justin called me on his graduation day, and I had to tell him I was kind of with someone, I felt like I was cheating on him. It was so hard to tell him.
But Justin was coming home on leave! And in the summer of 2004, I spent every free moment with him. If I wasn’t at work or at school, I was with Justin. We drove up to Maine, and went to his family reunion. His cousin got crazy drunk and asked us why we weren’t dating. Um, because! Justin is my best friend! Do you know what happens when you date someone?! You break up! And then you never speak to each other again!
Around the time that Justin headed back to Fort Benning, I got a text from him: it was too hard to just be friends. He loved me, but he couldn’t do it anymore. I read it to my best girl friend, Tanya. “Sam, you have to kiss him.” That sounds like a terrifying idea. I was not even a little bit ready to lose my best friend, but honestly at this point, it looked like I was on the verge of losing him anyway.
He was not true to his word, and we got right back into talking for hours every night. I would fall asleep on the phone. He would fall asleep on the phone. Justin starting asking me to marry him once more, and once again, I started giggling at the idea. Oh Justin, you’re so silly.
In the Fall of 2004, Justin said, “you’re never going to come visit me,” which I instantly took as a challenge. I booked my flight–I would fly to Georgia, drive back to New York with Justin. And then 2 weeks later, I would drive back to Georgia, and then eventually fly home. And once again, Tanya said, “you have to kiss him.”
But–
“If you never kiss him, you’ll never know if this could be more.” She was always right, and always offered the best advice.
Just a couple of kids in love.
So, I kissed him. And by March, I was asking him to marry me. I flew down to visit in April, and then in May he flew me down to be his date to a military ball–where I had a full on panic attack moments before he was supposed to be recognized for winning Ranger of the Quarter, or Superhero of the Century–I can’t remember which. Either way, he stayed with me while I unrealistically panicked over nothing.
When I got back to New York, I called him: “let’s get married when you’re home on leave.” He said sure (because “yes” is not in Justin’s vocabulary).
With the help of Tanya, I planned everything. And kept it a secret from everyone. Don’t even ask me why we were so set on eloping and telling no one–looking back, I’m sure we both had our reasons, but I’m sure they were all silly.
The morning of my baby sister’s high school graduation, Tanya came and picked up Justin and I. We were going out to breakfast with her, before she moved to Vegas: is what we told everyone. Really, we were driving 45 minutes away to get married in a city where no one knew our parents.
I love the story of us. I got to marry my best friend. Everyone should. Marry someone who wants to be with you every day. Marry someone who puts you before sleep. Marry someone who will call you back just to tell you he loves you. Marry your best friend.
The morning of my baby sister’s high school graduation, Tanya came and picked up Justin and I. We were going out to breakfast with her, before she moved to Vegas: is what we told everyone. Really, we were driving 45 minutes away to get married in a city where no one knew our parents.