I’ve known he was due to leave for some time now.
And I’ve “taken it in stride” like I always do as a “seasoned” Army wife. I’ve spoken to the kids’ schools, discussed burial arrangements, laundered his uniforms, attended the pre-deployment Yellow Ribbon events, and dragged my posse to “mandatory fun” days (you know — those fabulous events where you smile and wave, load your plate with a dozen versions of potato salad, and pre-brief the kids on how their behavior is a direct reflection on your Soldier).
I’ve answered what seem like thousands of “how do you do it” inquiries with grace (and not the snark I’d have liked), calmed the family, fielded a dozen “what if” scenarios, and started my lawn-mowing tour.
All this and so much more, with nary a tissue needed.
This ain’t my first rodeo, after all. Heck — in his absence I’ve dealt with house fires, and funerals, and heart attacks, and sick children, and broken pipes. While he was away I’ve taught myself to sheet-rock, learned where the water main is, earned a graduate degree, birthed a baby solo, and removed a foot cast with a steak knife when it was preventing me from driving the kids where they needed to be.
I GOT THIS…
Until I opened the refrigerator to make the kids’ lunches for school. And noticed we were running low on the yogurt my husband likes. And made a mental note to include it on the grocery list. And went to the grocery-list program on my computer to type it in. And collapsed in tears over my laptop.
Yogurt, people. Seriously????
This is going to be a very long year …