Friday, December 7, 2007

Our Turn (6 Month Milestone)

A few days ago we reached an important milestone in this 15 month deployment- 6 months. A 50% of a year has gone by since I drove away from him on that warm, summer evening at Ft. Bragg. This little curb is the exact place where we spent our last moment together. We'd already said our goodbye privately, but this is the little spot of earth where I last saw my husband running off towards an area where soldiers were gathered.

The sun was setting and I drove away with my heart thumping, hoping that reality would hit only after I left the base. It was a long drive to Raleigh and a longer night alone in a rink-a-dink hotel, wondering if each second was the moment his plane was taking off. Part of me felt I should be running along side the plane as fast as I could until I fell on my face in the dirt with one arm outstretched as his plane lifted into the sky. The other part of me just wanted to sit perfectly still, and never speak again, as if denying a voice to grief would deny its sovereignty.
I haven't cared to share the events of that day with anyone--I think I needed to get more of the behind me. You just really don't want to be on a military installation the day of a deployment if you don't have to be. Just watch the happy homecomings on TV. Trust me.

Everyone has their own way of saying good-bye.
In one instance, a husband was hugging his wife and kids in the front yard of their humble little on post home. All of his stuff was on lawn and I imagined at any moment his ride would come and take him away. Other couples were having their private moment in parking lots---away from the bustle of loading gear and the lines at the weapons draw. I could almost hear the delicate whispers and feel their embrace.

I saw a father walking with his arm around his teenage son, knowing he was probably telling him to do good in school and listen to his mother or that he was the man of the house for now and needed to step up. The son was not crying, but nodding his head as if he understood what his dad has been telling him on a different level today. "Yeah, dad. I understand. I will take care of the lawn and make sure we lock the doors at night. I will take care of Mom, little Joe, and the baby."

Small children played near the busses. Although initially I wanted to be with my husband until the very last moment possible, when I saw them running around, oblivious to the seperation they were about to experience, I suddenly was glad I wouldn't be there. I'm not sure I could bear to see their tears, their mom's trying to soothe their cries through her own tears as the busses drove away. Sigh. My heart still aches when I think of what I saw that day.

The beginning of our good-bye didn't involve any words. It was just us, alone in bed a day or so before he left. I was in his arms and quietly weeping while he held me close. Nothing was said. We knew.

It seemed only seconds passed before we were sitting on a picnic bench adjacent to a little pond at Ft. Bragg. I felt the almost ghostly echos of many goodbyes that had taken place there in all the years before we stood there. There we were, standing in the shadows of 82nd Airborne paratroopers from times long gone, whispering prayers and words of love and encouragement that belong only to us. It saddened me to know they also stood here with a wife or sweetheart saying they'd be back and either did not or else came back a different man. At the same time, I felt a quiet strength wash over me with the gentle peace of knowing that it was simply our turn.
As the circumstances of the world's troubles pulled us apart, I felt at the same time we were being warmly received by the others in the ancient tribes who do not fall to pieces when the drum of war begins to beat. Oh, how I miss him.... and yet I know that we can't be broken by such a minor thing as 15 months of time - not with the examples that we have had from those who've gone before us.


tommie said...

I had the same 'drop-off' philosophy as you did. Granted he left at almost 11 at night, so there was no real need to linger. Some wives literally were hanging onto the bus as it pulled out. I was ready to start checking off the days. Sometimes I feel like I have wished and rushed these last 15 months away.....but oh well.

6 months under your belt is awesome! Has it gotten any easier?

A. Conley said...

Your good-bye story brought me to tears. I had to say goodbye at a gas station where my husband had a buddy meet him. It was 4 am. I was two hours from home and cried the entire way back. Just thinking of that day brings such a flood of emotions.

jessica said...

My hubby just deployed to Iraq in October. We didn't get to watch them get on the bus, they made the wives leave at a certain time. The last time I seen him was at 11pm at his company. Now, I'm just counting down the days until R & R. The days are going by faster and getting a little easier.

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bean said...

Dear Stella,
Your writing is amazing. You are truly gifted. I felt like you were describing MY emotions on MY D-Day with MY husband. That was US in the quiet of the parking lot trying to gain one last moment together. Tears. They just flowed when I read your blog.
I have browsed your blog and it's GREAT. 8 months out of 12 are now under our belt. Upon my husband's return, we will be moving to San Diego. I don't know how I even wound up on your blog. I was actually looking for "deployment countup tickers" and somehow I wound up here. I believe it to be fate. Your quote in your video by Khalil Gibran reminds me of my husband. He was reading a book by him before he deployed. Keep blogging it up, chica. It is a great outlet for you. Also, it provides a great medium to help those of us dealing with deployments. Thank You!

ABW said...

Great post! My husband will leave for the third time in just a matter of weeks. Weeks...that is hard for me to write and face. We usually don't have the kids go along with us, but this time we might have to if it falls over Spring Break. My heart breaks for what they have to go through, but unfortunately my oldest who is 10 told me it was getting easier. Can't even imagine....

Jules said...

Hi there,

I can't begin to even imagine what it must be like for you and all the other military spouses, heck I'm not even American. However, despite that, I feel for you and I think that you are an extremely strong woman. I hope that you will be able to hang on for the next half and that you will continue writing. You have an amazing writing style and I hope that you will find strength in this. I have always been a supporter of the American military and I hope that all of them will return home safely into the arms of their family. I hope things will go well for you and your family. Regards from Malaysia.