Back to our regularly scheduled program.

No radio show pun intended. We are back, I am back.. life is back to normal. Yesterday he got a haircut and shaved off his leave beard. My vacation husband is gone, and my obviousley military husband is here again. My slightly overstressed, uniform wearing, order following, SAT concious husband with a ten pm bedtime. It really is a different man from my crazy hairy, pj wearing husband that stays up late, sleeps in and eats junk food all day long. This morning I was up at 0530, donned my early morning garb (you know those sweatpants and slipper socks that say “I am my mother”) and drove him to work. “How did we get here?” I thought as I drove away from the hanger. But.. we had nine months plus! Where did they all go? Cruise is supposed to be over nine months away and now.. its waving to me from across the supermarket, like that person you haven’t seen since highschool and it would be too soon if you never did. And you think, if I ever see that person I hope I am in my best outfit and having a great hair and make-up day.. well I feel totally unprepared. I am caught in the supermarket with no make-up, bed-hair and slipper socks, in a hoodie that says “Hug a Navy wife or give her liqour.” Yes this is the state of being I am in. And I wonder how long I will stay here until I move on from suprised and in shock to histerical and irrational.

Its not that I think I won’t make it. I mean no one has ever died from missing someone. I know that. Sometimes I say to myself, I can live on my own, and then I will just miss him. That’s not that big a deal. Missing someone.. pssh.. bring it on. But then you never really remember how badly you missed him until the next time he’s gone. And in fact, everything I have included in my life for the past nine months has been for him, about him, with him. So when he is gone, my daily tasks become quite meaningless and un-fullfiling. I have found a solution, to get a job. But I haven’t secured one yet. What if I can’t find one? I cannot stay in this house for six months by myself, with nothing to do. I mean no one could. Besides the fact that idleness intensifies the feeling of missing someone by about a bazillion. I often feel purposeless when he’s gone. I have no one to take care of, no one to fuss at, no one to do laundry for or cook for, my house in rediculously clean because there is no one to mess it up. We have become quite the old fogeys in the past nine months. We enjoy our life keeping to ourselves. I know that I can’t live like that when he is gone. So many changes, so many adjustments, as soon as I get used to one thing someone turns on a blender and my life is completely re-arranged. I have the emotional range of I-95 and the United States Navy is dragging me up and down and back again at maximum speed. I honestly just want it to be over with. We keep saying, I wish it were tomorrow, or yesterday because there would be no more anticipation. That’s the worst thing about anything. Like getting a tattoo, the anticipation is worse than the actual pain you will endure. Except on your foot. I do in fact think the pain is worse. But that’s another story.

I have not put the date on my dry-erase callendar. It’s a month behind actually. I refuse to acknowledge it and let it take hold of my life any sooner than it must. A lot of people tell you not to ignore emotions, but we military wives are not a lot of people, are we? Life is so different for us. The very way in which we process emotion and information is completely different. By ignorning it, we can simply enjoy the time we have together instead of dreading the day he leaves. Until of course, I drag out the seabag once again. This time, for the long haul.

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