A year ago today, the scene was almost identical. A year ago today, Chris left for his deployment to Afghanistan. A year ago today, he left our home at 4 a.m., en-route to Norfolk, VA, where he would catch a military flight to Bagram. And this morning, again, he was not here. Of all places, he is in Norfolk, VA again, or Virginia Beach, to be more precise, for a civilian job interview--and thankfully he will be returning home tomorrow, rather than traveling into a war zone.
It's strange to revisit such a familiar scenario, particularly one so vivid and haunting. I felt caught in a tug-of-war between past and present most of the day. As each hour passed today, my mind kept floating back to this day last year, mindful of how today's circumstances eerily resemble those of last year, and yet how different everything is now.
Today I was aware that I am not the same woman, the same mother, who woke up alone in bed last year. The circumstances of last summer forced to me grow up a lot, to gain confidence in myself as a woman and a mother because there were no other options. I am glad that experience is in the past, and I'm also thankful for the way that it has shaped my present--for the way that pain and endurance builds character.
Last year on Mother's Day morning, Tess, Lucy and I went for donuts and then to church, our traditional Sunday routine. I was determined to try and keep things as normal as possible, despite the sleepless night and emotional good-bye Chris and I had shared several hours prior.
Tess at "Happy Donuts."
May 9th, 2010.
One year ago.
Maybe I'm a little wiser now, or maybe just lazier, but this morning I said, whatever, that's too much work. It's not normal when Chris isn't here, why try and fight it? So I stayed home with my girls this morning. We watched movies and played in pajamas and I just enjoyed them. I enjoyed how much they've grown up this past year, too, and I enjoyed the immense gift that they are. I feel so grateful and proud to be their mom.
Last year I started a blog for just Chris and I, so we could keep track of our correspondence during his deployment. I went back to that blog today and read my first post to him, which I wrote a year ago today. I thought I'd share it here...
"Day 1.
My first post.
A lot of time and energy has been spent in anticipation of this day--today--that has finally come. I still remember you kissing me good-bye in bed this morning before you left. I remember thinking in that moment, Wow...so it's finally here.The number of times I've imagined what that moment would be like, how I'd feel, whether I would cry or not, whether you would cry or not...are too numerous to count. It feels strange to suddently be on the other side of that moment. The hourglass has now run out of sand and it's been flipped over again to start another countdown--not the countdown until when you leave, but the countdown until when you return. I feel relieved to be on the other side of it now. I am glad that what we've anticipated and dreaded for so long has finally come. Now we are suddenly in the thick of it.
Here. We. Go.
I was thinking today that this equation doesn't work without you. Of course, I could have told you that even before you left today. It didn't take your leaving for me to know and feel the truth of that statement, but surely, the circumstances surrounding today left me with the palpable reality of it. Waking up at 6:20 to the first words out of Tessa's mouth... Where's Daddy? Waking up and realizing it was only 6:20 and that the other side of the bed was empty and that the day ahead of me would be long and lonesome was almost too much to bear. I told Tess that you were on your trip, to which she nonchalantly repied, Oh, but the rest of the day seemed to reveal that she was not apathetic to your obvious absence. She had three pee-pee accidents today, two of which ended up in a puddle on the floor with no attempt to conceal them. It's almost as if she wanted me to know, Hey Mom, You can't fool me, I know Daddy isn't here and I don't like it. Just when I thought that things were getting back to normal since the birth of Lucy, everything blows up again. Tess has such a sensitive spirit, and yet she's also a resilient little thing. This new change will require her to adapt in new ways, and I have faith that over time, she'll be okay. I have to believe that we'll find some sort of stride, even if it's a limp, especially in those moments when all I can think is this doesn't work without you, this doesn't work without you.
It's about 9pm now and the house is silent. Both girls are down, and earlier today I never thought I'd make it to this moment. I already poured and drank a substantial glass of wine, and I'm ready to pour myself more. The white roses you left me sit here on my desk to the left of my computer. The dishwasher is full of clean dishes and the dirty ones are stacked high in a pile to the left of the sink. If you were here you'd probably have already unloaded and loaded the dishwasher for me, but for now they'll have to wait until tomorrow. Tessa's room was also a disaster when I put her to bed tonight. I didn't have the energy to have her pick it up. I feel that there is evidence all over the house of your absence and I don't like it."
A lot of time and energy has been spent in anticipation of this day--today--that has finally come. I still remember you kissing me good-bye in bed this morning before you left. I remember thinking in that moment, Wow...so it's finally here.The number of times I've imagined what that moment would be like, how I'd feel, whether I would cry or not, whether you would cry or not...are too numerous to count. It feels strange to suddently be on the other side of that moment. The hourglass has now run out of sand and it's been flipped over again to start another countdown--not the countdown until when you leave, but the countdown until when you return. I feel relieved to be on the other side of it now. I am glad that what we've anticipated and dreaded for so long has finally come. Now we are suddenly in the thick of it.
Here. We. Go.
I was thinking today that this equation doesn't work without you. Of course, I could have told you that even before you left today. It didn't take your leaving for me to know and feel the truth of that statement, but surely, the circumstances surrounding today left me with the palpable reality of it. Waking up at 6:20 to the first words out of Tessa's mouth... Where's Daddy? Waking up and realizing it was only 6:20 and that the other side of the bed was empty and that the day ahead of me would be long and lonesome was almost too much to bear. I told Tess that you were on your trip, to which she nonchalantly repied, Oh, but the rest of the day seemed to reveal that she was not apathetic to your obvious absence. She had three pee-pee accidents today, two of which ended up in a puddle on the floor with no attempt to conceal them. It's almost as if she wanted me to know, Hey Mom, You can't fool me, I know Daddy isn't here and I don't like it. Just when I thought that things were getting back to normal since the birth of Lucy, everything blows up again. Tess has such a sensitive spirit, and yet she's also a resilient little thing. This new change will require her to adapt in new ways, and I have faith that over time, she'll be okay. I have to believe that we'll find some sort of stride, even if it's a limp, especially in those moments when all I can think is this doesn't work without you, this doesn't work without you.
It's about 9pm now and the house is silent. Both girls are down, and earlier today I never thought I'd make it to this moment. I already poured and drank a substantial glass of wine, and I'm ready to pour myself more. The white roses you left me sit here on my desk to the left of my computer. The dishwasher is full of clean dishes and the dirty ones are stacked high in a pile to the left of the sink. If you were here you'd probably have already unloaded and loaded the dishwasher for me, but for now they'll have to wait until tomorrow. Tessa's room was also a disaster when I put her to bed tonight. I didn't have the energy to have her pick it up. I feel that there is evidence all over the house of your absence and I don't like it."
Today I'm thankful that Chris will be on a flight home tomorrow, instead of on the military flight pictured above. I'm thankful that there are no more deployments in our future. I'm thankful for all of those who serve our country and who are currently walking through the fear and loneliness of deployment. I'm thankful to be a mom, I'm thankful for my girlies and for the son we are yet to meet. I'm thankful for my mom and for the positive ways that she shaped me and prepared me for womanhood. I'm thankful to have made it through this past year, and for the God who loves me and carries me and molds me.
summer 2010.
Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there. I hope your day was blessed and filled with JOY.
I miss you, dibs :)
ReplyDeleteThat is the best picture of you with the girls. I love that. I'm so glad you are all together again and NO more deployments! Excited for your future!!!
ReplyDelete