Husband is out sailing the deep blue sea for a couple of weeks. He would prefer it, I’m sure, if I didn’t put it in such romantic terms. In fact, he would probably tell you that he is out riding around on a foul-smelling, gray hunk of metal, with cramped living conditions and really long work days.
And I… I’m here at home. I dreaded this detachment because I dread all of them–long or short. But I especially dreaded him being gone yesterday. Yesterday was just *not* a good day to be sans husband–regardless of the relatively short length of projected goneness.
This is our first detachment that I’m staying put and not travelling an insane amount of miles to deal with a family crisis. It feels strange, a little scary, a little boring, and in some ways (shhh…) a little exciting.
I would much rather have my husband here, don’t get me wrong, but being able to stay put signifies something kind of big: Life is not in full out crisis mode.
It’s amazing to me how easily I sink into the groove of him being gone, now. I’m far from being a really seasoned Navy wife. But I’ve seen him go out enough times–for short or long time periods, that it feels suprisingly normal. In some ways, I think that’s a little sad. It shouldn’t feel normal to have your husband gone… To “do it all” alone and to be the Mommy and Daddy all at once. It does though. The “normal” sensation is also a bit comforting. I am far more adaptable than I ever gave myself credit for before embarking on the journey of being a Navy wife. I can do this. I can not only survive him being away from us, but I can actually contentedly live.
While he’s gone we’re planning on going to two free folk-music concerts at our favorite state park. We might hit the local children’s museum, and I’m planning on some beach time. I have two novels to read, and Grey’s Anatomy Season I to lull me to sleep in the evenings.
I would *much* rather have him here beside me. I do miss him terribly. I hate the moments he misses with Little Miss because he has already missed so many, but… We still keep going. We can keep some semblance of “normal life” regardless of Daddy’s whereabouts.
Nevertheless, it’s funny to me how cheerful civilian-folks are about these short-times out…. “Oh only a couple of weeks? That’s no big deal!” Sometimes I feel like they think I should throw a party because “It’ll go so fast!” Gone is gone. No matter how long he’s out. 6 days or 6 months–it’s still time we spend apart. It’s still time lost. And when you add up several “Only two weeks!” or “Only a month!” or “Only 2 months!” in a short period of time it still equals a heckuvalotta goneness.
But it’s doable. It’s livable. It’s even somewhat thrivable (a new Val-word of the day).
Now I better go take out the trash. It’s *my* job for now.