As a military wife, indepedence is a daily lesson.
We’re constantly being pulled back and forth by whatever schedule the Army decides is best for our husbands, their soldiers.
David has been home for a little over six months now. Our daily routines aren’t perfect but they work.
We’re loving the time together as a family.
One of the simplest pleasures in my day is hearing the front door open around 1700 every day. At that moment, two bright eyed boys and one exhausted Momma turn their heads to the hallway and wait for Daddy to appear in the doorway.
I was forced to become very dependant on myself during those long 14 months when he was away.
Now that he’s been home for more than six months, I am ever so dependant on him.
This week our president announced that 30,000 more troops will be sent to Afghanistan. More than likely, this means that the soldiers from this Army post in Germany will deploy soon. (No, I don’t have a time frame for soon. Just know that I consider both next month, and 12 months from now, as being way too soon.)
I noticed today as I was making lunch that the trash is overflowing. I simply pulled it out, tied it up, and placed it out of the way; the whole time making a mental note to ask David to take it to the dumpster.
I also started a list of things I forgot to pick up at the store this week. I was going to ask my husband to stop at the commissary on his way home from work today.
I’ve sorted laundry in the hallway so that when he gets home for lunch, I can run laundry downstairs without having to leave the boys by themselves.
The boys are whining for juice today. Not because there isn’t any in the house, but because I cannot get the bottle open.
I am not ready to be dependant on myself again.
I like this life.
I like having him home.
I like seeing him wrestle with our boys.
I like hearing him laugh.
I like knowing that he can take the trash out.
I like knowing that I can slip away when he gets home from work, if even for just a few minutes to run to the mail room.
I like being kept awake at night by the sound of his snore.
I’m praying that I have more time to be his dependant. I’m praying that this next deployment doesn’t come too soon for us. And in the same breath, if it doesn’t come too soon for us, it’s coming too soon for someone else. Where’s the fairness in that?
The truth is there is no fairness in deployments. If it’s not my husband, it will be someone else’s.
I’m not ready for what the future may hold for our soldiers.
But ready or not, it’s coming… and before it gets here, I need to learn to open the juice bottles again.