Daniel's gone. Wheels went up at 1644, and off he went into the wild blue yonder.
After thirteen months and some-odd days, you'd think I'd be ready for him to head back out the door. I mean, that's the kind of thing military wives joke about...and in this community, such a long gap between deployments is almost unheard of. And we knew that this third deployment was coming. Seriously, we've had rough dates since early spring. It wasn't like it was a big surprise, or anything.
But, man...waking up this morning and realizing that today was the day really sucked. No matter how many times he heads out on a new mission, no matter how many times I bravely wave good bye, no matter how many times I walk into my suddenly-empty house...it never gets any easier. It just doesn't. I mean, on one hand, it's nice knowing what to expect on each successive deployment. I know how hard the first few weeks will be, but I also know that it will get easier, as time progresses and I settle back into a routine. But, on the other hand, sending your husband off to war is the most heart-wrenching thing any woman can do. I mean, I married him for a reason. I like being with him...not being alone for months and months while he's being shot at in far off places. I don't know...call me crazy, but I don't think that will ever be "easy."
Today's departure, though, was the easiest departure we've ever done. Every other deployment or operation or training evolution or whatever he's been sent away on has started the same way: I drop him off curbside at a civilian airport. I help him pull his civilian luggage out of the back of the Xterra, kiss him quickly, and watch him head into the terminal like every other Joe Six Pack (thanks, Sarah Palin) heading off on a business trip...except that my husband isn't going to a weekend conference in Bumfuck, Idaho. I didn't realize that sending him off all by his onsie was what made it so hard..until today. Daniel actually left with a TEAM today. There were a couple dozen guys leaving with him, and most of them have wives or girlfriends. All of us girls sat in the unit space this morning, cracking jokes about how many sailors it takes to secure a cargo net to a pallet of gear (no fewer than thirty seven, if you're interested) and swapping deployment stories. It was the first time I've ever been "un-alone" on a departure day, and it was the most comforting feeling. Once they finished prepping all the pallets for transit, we all convoyed over to the air station...and again, I wasn't alone. I was astonished at what a difference it made. When they were bussed out onto the tarmac to board their flight, I gave him that last quick kiss and waved good bye...but then, instead of bursting into tears and driving straight home, I turned around and found myself surrounded by other Navy wives who were going through the exact same thing I was. I wasn't alone. For the first time, I didn't have to do it by myself. It was amazing.
Don't get me wrong...I'm not happy that he's gone. This wasn't an "easy" departure, by any means...but it was easier than any other departure we've done. And that gives me high hopes that this deployment might be easier than any of the others. I know it won't be easy, but I'm just working on taking things as they come, day by day...and hopefully, remembering that I'm not alone will make each day better than the day before it.
Do me a favor, though...as you're reading this and thinking about how strong and brave and generally amazing I am (cough, cough), please take a minute to remember how truly strong and brave and seriously amazing my husband and his teammates are. No matter what you think about this war or this presidency or any of that, please remember that the men and women over there are simply following orders, and bravely leaving their homes and families to fight for something so much bigger than any of them. I, for one, am so proud to be my husband's Navy wife, and I am so grateful for all the sacrifices he is making for all of us.
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