As the rolling picture of my life plays, the words F-A-L-L flash upon the screen.
Leaves tumble and glisten through the rain. I drive this way to work each day, this nice area of pine tree lined road. I do a lot of thinking here.
The deep male ‘movie-voice’ guy says, “Coming soon to a theater near you! There she goes again…that Emily, how will she do it this time?”
In October, my husband was finally offered a job he was optimistic about since leaving the army. He departed for three months of training in Alabama as a Civilian Contracted C-RAM operator (Counter Rocket Artillery Mortar), or ‘big gun most army guys get really excited about.’ We have certainly spent more time apart than this, and it felt really worth it to see him enthusiastic and hopeful again. The company even flew him home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.
In many ways the road is not new, or different, or unfamiliar. What it leads to in the very near future is lenghthy periods of time apart for our family, to many of our ‘not-so-favorite’ foreign destinations, which is unquestionably familiar.
It’s not as though I can’t do it alone. I have, and can, and will.
Insert ‘movie-voice guy’: “She’s amazing! Watch her go as she single-handedly conquers the world of working full-time, parenting, and running a household! What will she do next!…”
The question is- am I supposed to have to do it alone, and for how long do I have to do it alone. How long is my spouse going to have an occupation that keeps him away from his family. Sure, the pay is good, but is the money worth the cost.
For now, we do not know how long this will be a career for him.
Most of time I have to admit, I am used to it. That is what being an army wife does to you.
But sometimes, that feeling of running on empty takes over. Doing one million things and not feeling particularly good at any of them.
You’re not here and my shoulders hurt. Crying babies on the car ride home from the airport because daddy is gone- again. And some days I feel alone when you’re not here.