I took a break for a while to coast on into the next phase of deployment, which is to revisit familiarity. I packed up the boys and headed south to Florida to see my family and my husband’s family. My house was in disarray from the flooring project, a lot of my friends were out of town, and I just needed a break from it all. I also craved a sense of normalcy. I know I’m not alone in this particular type of endeavor. Lots of military spouses do this. We think that being around the family will strike our familiar bone and make us feel like everything makes sense for a bit. But, more often than not, that craving goes unsatisfied when it’s time to pack the car and head back to reality. When we leave home, time doesn’t stand still for the family we leave behind. They create a new normal, and we just aren’t part of it anymore. It sucks to finally admit that, and we relearn it every time we strike the match only to watch it fizzle. My trip was definitely not bad. It just wasn’t normal. I was still very aware that my husband wasn’t with me and I tried so desperately to connect in a way that made me feel like it was okay that he wasn’t there. It wasn’t okay. I wanted him there and needed him there, but he wasn’t. The kids wanted him there. Instead of feeling comfort, I felt constant reminders that I was alone.
I came back home a couple days early so I could get my house cleaned and ready for my friends to visit, but I came home to even more reminders of my absent other half. Ice cold feet at night, Heavy furniture, electrical wiring confusion, issues with the company that sold me faulty flooring. He would never have problems with taking care of any of this stuff. In a desperate effort to keep my husband present through this absence, I always ask myself, “What would Chandler do?” and try to mesh it with what I would do. But, I just can’t do the things that I know he would do, because I A)don’t know how or B)don’t have 67 inch biceps and testosterone that could put out a raging fire. I mention over and over again that I have amazing friends here that have bent over backwards to help me, and I appreciate them more than words can even begin to express. But, they just aren’t my husband. There is no replacement for him, not even me trying my hardest to think like him. I wish I could beam in Future-Cathi, and have her tell me what I should have done so I’d know what to do right now, but I don’t wanna mess up the time-space continuum. My husband would definitely not approve of that.
So, yes…it’s been melt-down central over here. I’m grateful for friends who don’t try to stop me from crying, for not trying to give me advice in the middle of it, and for allowing me to move on from my tears into an inappropriate joke because that’s just the way I cope with things. Dirty humor dries tears and heals pain…I’m pretty sure I heard an old lady say that once. Now that I think of it, I think it was Future-Cathi that told me that. Dang it! I forgot to ask her something important!
With my time away, I’ve had way too much thinking and not enough blogging. So, I recovered by doing my activity for the week, suggested by Meagan G. It was to fill a jar of Mayo with vanilla pudding and eat it in a public place.