separation

I have gotten some comments, online and otherwise, to the effect of "there are people worse off then you" and "you knew what you were signing up for" and "we don't talk about this" when I talk about my husband being away for extended periods of time, whether it is a deployment or extended training. I found this attitude interesting, and have decided to address it.

I do not think that my life is worse then anyone else's. I'm not comparing or making light of other people's situations. Each life comes with it's own unique trials that challenge that person, and what may be trivial to one person can be potentially heart breaking to another. That is because of the truth that we are all very different. You will NEVER find me telling a friend who has come to me needing to talk "Well, that's not so bad...." People most often do not want you to solve their problems, they simply want them to be acknowledged. Listening is a wonderful gift to give, and talking, quite cathartic.

When I talk about Tyrone being gone, it is because currently, it is shaking up my little world. He may be one person, but in this house, he is a hero, a best friend, a kisser of boo boos, a fixer of drawers when they are pulled off track, a teddy bear when a little girl pouts, a confidant, a teacher, a wrestling buddy, a joint partaker of midnight snacks....There is a definite void when he is not here. And I do not try to fill it.

Let me explain. We do life, and I try to step in where my children need me to be "daddy" when he is not here, but I can't be Tyrone. So I don't try. I don't WANT to fill his void. What a horrible thing it would be if we didn't miss him, didn't think of him, didn't need him. I don't want to "get used" to life without him. He is my life partner. So we do things differently when he is gone, circle the wagons a little closer, love on each other maybe a tad more, and anxiously cross days off of the calender.

As for "knowing what I got in to" well, that's semi true. I knew that deployments were guaranteed, but I did not know how it would feel, how it would look. I did not grow up in a military family, the whole thing was just an idea....until it was not. But, regardless, should I not miss him? The wife of a business man gone for a week misses him, and isn't chided for it. The wife of a fireman breathes a sigh of relief when her husband makes it home from his 24 on, and isn't thought less of. I'm not saying we're MORE then them....I'm saying, I miss him, like every other wife whose husband is away. He's my husband. He's gone. So I miss him.

Now, as for "we don't talk about that..." Well, I don't really care. Maybe that's the standard, but it's not my standard, I never agreed to it. I don't spend my days whining and crying. Mostly, it's head up, moving on. I take care of the kids, and the bills, and the house work, and keeping the car up to date on maintenance. There is not enough time in the day to have many pity parties. But I also run if I hear the phone, and cry if I miss a call. I wonder what he's doing. I try to figure out how much meatloaf I should make, since Tyrone won't be at the table. I actually start to miss washing those infernal, stinky ACUs with the never ending pockets that would put Mary Poppins' bag to shame.

So, sometimes I say I miss him. Sometimes I write about it. There are many days that go by that the only people that I have a real conversation in person with are my kids. So, sometimes I need an outlet for these adult thoughts that I would never lay on their young shoulders. I do not think that our life is more deserving of sympathy and/or praise then yours. I am not asking for anyone to get super excited about what we're going through. Just the same listening ear that I offer you when your dog ate the trash....AGAIN.

This really isn't directed at one particular person or anything like that, just something I've been wanting to say for a while, as I've been a tad befuddled at some people's reactions here and there when I talk about my husband. I'm not angry at all, but I do hope this gives some insight, food for thought. Or, you know, at least an eye roll ;)