Sara Smiley, a popular military spouse blogger and author, recently wrote a column in which she described the experience of preparing to send your solider/airman/sailor off to deployment (http://www.bangordailynews.com/detail/144186.html) . In it, she describes the stress and tension that comes with preparing to live apart from your spouse, as well as the increase in arguments that can arise as you mentally prepare to live independently. She writes: “It’s even easier to say goodbye if you are angry with that person, which is why military spouses often fight in the weeks leading up to a deployment.” I have heard this before, from many sources, actually. Each time Hubbz has prepared for a deployment, it is in the brochures that he carries home from work, or in the spiel given by the counselors who brief the families in his detachment about what to expect during the deployment.
Each time I read about this, I must admit, I feel a bit smug. “That doesn’t happen to Hubbz and I”, I think. I know it DOES happen. The concept itself is logical, and the incidence is real and discussed amongst my military spouse colleagues – but we, somehow, are immune to this. Our “countdown time” is tender and bittersweet. There are many more sad smiles across the table, when a group conversation turns to a concert or an event that we will miss spending together. There are far more hand squeezes and quiet hugs shared between us, when the realization of the time we’re about to spend apart strikes one of us in a fleeting thought. We are patient with each other as one rehashes for the umpteenth time, how to execute a task that the other usually takes care of. Doing so is acknowledging that this is an act of love and caretaking that must now be done through careful verbal instruction, instead of quietly and quickly behind the scenes, to keep our small family running at its current operating speed. We are lucky. We are blessed. We are strong….and I am smug….until it comes time to PCS.
Somehow, we are the anomaly. The stressors that the experts warn about are those that we quickly sail past – but the DAY that the orders show up for our next change of duty station, the couple on the cover of the romance novel is replaced by Mr. “Just Do It My Way, and Don’t Ask Questions” and Mrs. “Once Again, You are Doing It Wrong”. Hubbz and I are both “type A”, oldest siblings with a penchant for organizing things and people. As I’m sure you can quickly surmise, when it’s time to get things organized for a long-distance move, we both have a clear idea of what needs to be done, and in which order it should be executed…..and that creates a situation with two Chiefs with no tribe to boss around. Not exactly the recipe for harmonious teamwork.
This tension seems to peak just about the day before the packers arrive and then the acrimony seems to dissipate in major chunks as each truck drives off with more of our stuff inside. That last Friday, with our last shipment done, and our old house keys labeled on the kitchen counter in wait for the new tenants of our house – there was a final noticeable lift in the weight, despite the weariness in our bones. We were done – we were “us” again…and our next adventure awaited us in Germany.
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