HOW IT ALL HAPPENED: DEPLOYMENT DAY

What was it going to be like? How should we say goodbye? Do I go in accepting that I'm going to cry, or try to hold it together so my man's last thought of me as he leaves isn't of my blubbering ugly cry face...so that later I feel terrible about NOT being able to hold it together? Should friends come with me so I don't have to drive back alone and spend the day all lonely and depressed? How many people is too many people? What if I cried all the way home? What if I didn't?

There was a lot hubster and I had talked about. He had never been to a send-off ceremony, since his last deployment he had to be at the premob site several days early. Basic training for him was tainted by a tragic death in the family, and he had only had family go to one military occasion, WLC graduation, and that was important to him. After that, I went to a couple things, but nothing this significant. We decided it would be nice for me to have some support along so we could drive down alone together but not send me back by myself. When my parents wanted to come along, I wondered about having a crowd inevitably end up awkwardly staring at my ugly cry face, but I loved that there would be a strong presence of support, family and friends at this event.

After all of that, it turned out that for a while we didn't even know if he would have a send-off. His two-week training (that got moved because of an incredibly frustrating Army mistake), scheduled right before deployment, is at the premob site, so it would make sense for him to be one of the guys selected to get to the premob site early since he will already be there halfway across the country. Luckily, that got changed so that he would be able to come home for 2 or 3 evenings (not during the day) between training and send-off and be able to go, which was a relief from the alternative of saying goodbye in a Dominican Republic airport after a chopped short mini-vacation. We were frustrated at all the changes and at having our vacation cut short, but we were excited to get away for a few days and enjoy the trip. On the way out the door, we got a message saying the two week training was cancelled - days before he was to report. We changed our flights yet again, were charged for switching the flight so that he wasn't sent off to Texas after DR, and then soon after returning home learned that the training had been rescheduled and he would be leaving a day before the sendoff for it. So no 3 hour drive, but no official sendoff anymore. The unit did have a barbecue for family 2 days before the official sendoff, which was nice (that's what the picture is from).

WELL. After all of that, he ended up with an early morning flight out of a small local airport. Since there would be no real send off, ceremony, or significant drive home alone, we decided to let our friends know we didn't expect them to wake up that early and were planning to go alone, but that I would love to meet up with them afterwards and get out of my apartment sometime that morning. Each friend individually wrote me back saying they were still coming, which nearly made me cry. After weeks of no significant tears or meltdowns!

The morning of departure we got up shortly before 5am to get to the airport. We were tired and doing okay getting ready. We got to the car and my husband opened the door for me, saying, "Here you go ma'am." Usually I respond with, "I won't expect this all the time!" because our first official date he opened the car door and told me not to expect it, but he still often does it. I knew I was in trouble when I couldn't say it back. In the car, we got maybe three minutes down the road before we started getting all choked up. He said something to the effect of, "Really? We made it just 3 minutes down the road!" and we laughed, and I told him my goal had been to make it to the airport, finishing with, "We suck!" Thank goodness the airport wasn't far.

We met 4 friends at the airport and since it was a tiny airport with only 2 flights leaving that morning, they didn't even have security open yet when we got there. As a result, we got to wait a little longer rather than saying goodbye immediately and sending him through security. I was mostly quiet, as my husband talked with friends a bit and I joined in only occasionally. When security opened and the line didn't end up getting shorter, we decided to say our goodbyes. Goodbyes are stupid.

The goodbye was hard and we took a couple minutes. Afterward, I booked it out of the airport with my friends trailing me and then we went to a little breakfast place and waited for their doors to open at 6:30. I had one friend in the car with me on the way over, and I cried, didn't cry, and cried again. I got waves of emotion that ebbed and flowed, and was comforted in the moment to know that this is what I would be dealing with today. It wasn't as overwhelming, melt into a puddle on the floor, drag me out by the hair as I thought it might be, which was encouraging. Dramatic, yes, but you have a lot of time in pre-deployment to think about all potential atrocities.

On the way out of the airport, I had a strange mix of emotions. Emotion 1: I was sad, and it sucked. Emotion 2: Accomplishment. This great big, terrible, horrible, no good very bad day had been looming over me for a long time now and it settled over me, but when it did, I got an idea of what I was dealing with for the day, and knowing what to expect was comforting. At breakfast, I had a few waves of emotion hit me, but luckily the conversation of friends was diverting and made me feel better. It helped the day feel more normal, and I think without it the day would have been significantly worse. On the drive home, I cried a little, then was surprised by how I wasn't as emotional at the time as I had expected. Surprised, I thought maybe I would even be able to get home and be okay for a while, and it would hit me in earnest later. The latter is probably still true, but when I got home I saw the bed he had made this morning and cried. I saw the post it notes he put all over the house and cried. Because my man is awesome, he hid 20 post-it notes around the house. He gave me a clue to the first one when we were in the car on the way to the airport. They were sweet and thoughtful and I may or may not plan to leave some of them up for an obscene amount of time before finally putting them somewhere more permanent for safekeeping. Yes, I'm keeping them. No, I do not meet criteria for a hoarder. I've yet to find them all...I looked for some when I got home, and then I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that I had to sit down for a bit and wanted to save a few for later. I watched some silly Youtube videos and took a mammoth of a nap, which is arguably the best thing that has happened to me today. It's only halfway through day one, so I can anticipate a lot coming at me over the next days and weeks and months.

I had a few thoughts run through my head today:

- Tears, I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING! You're trying to ruin my plans and be all premature and obnoxious. I did great yesterday and this morning, so you're not doing this now. NOPE NOPE NOPE! Airport. Airport first.

- Well, crap. Airport shmerport. That didn't go as planned. Too late now.

- I have the best man ever.

- I can do this.

- We did it.

- He's finally on his way home now!

- Phew. The goodbye is over.

- I don't want to be here (my apartment) by myself.

- This sucks.

I will say, as sucky as it is, there were some moments of peace in the middle of it all. The peace didn't lessen the magnitude of the hurt, but came alongside it and changed it somehow. I don't know how else to describe it. I can only attribute this to Jesus, since I was baffled by it and know it had nothing to do with me. I prayed as I left, and He has been with us every step of the way. I still feel like I'm walking on eggshells at times, wondering if it'll hit me all at once when the rest of me figures out what my mind knows - that he's not just at a training, and won't be back for quite some time. I know that when that day comes, I can take it one day at a time, lean on friends, and miss him. Because loving my husband is the greatest earthly opportunity I have been granted, and the easiest part of this deployment. Missing him will be hard. Loving him will not be. And I know that even now he is closer to coming home than he was moments ago. The clock is finally ticking.