We Are Home, He is Gone

Here is how the day began.

My husband is awake. Falling back to sleep and forgetting he is leaving again is not an option for me. My heart won’t allow my mind to shut off. So I give up and walk out to the living room and see him sitting there eating something horrible he has prepared for himself. It smells like eggs and coffee but who knows. This is the last meal he will eat in our house for an unknown time.

He is leaving…again. How long is anybody’s guess. Even he does not know.

His sea bag sits at the doorway. He is dressed in his service khakis; I am dressed in my most fashionable frumpy pajamas. It is not exactly the outfit most envision for a military goodbye.

I HATE goodbyes.

I am doing my best to keep it together, but my mind keeps going back to the things I will miss the most trying to cope with this separation. Thinking about those things is a direct line to my heart, and I cannot help but cry a little.

I will miss him...

•        Because I am not a fond of an empty bed. I want someone to snuggle up next to.
•      When I wake up and wish that he already made the coffee because perked is all he tolerates. “Pods are for the Army.”
•        When my little ones ask for Daddy, and I cannot deliver.
•        When I simply want to talk to my husband and best friend, and I cannot.
•         When everything in the house suddenly starts to break down and I could use a partner in crime.

His breakfast is finished and it is exactly 3:14 am. It is time to go. Since it is winter and he knows my aversion to cold, we planned to do this goodbye differently than usual. Instead of going to the pier to say our goodbyes at the bottom of the gangway in the dead of night, with no one around but security, we are saying our goodbyes in the quiet stillness of our own home.

He throws his dishes in the sink and tells me the same things he always tells me and I love to hear, “I love you. You’re my favorite girl in the world. I adore you. I will see you soon.”

I do not say much at this point. I just hug him tightly and kiss him enough to hopefully tide him over until he returns.

He grabs his bags and leaves as the door shuts quietly behind him.

Chao lei and June are sleeping soundly in their beds and have no idea that their daddy just left. They do not yet fully understand that daddy will not be home today or the day after that or the day after that. They just believe their father is a superhero. That is why June sleeps next to her daddy doll that her brother gave up for her. That is why Chao lei is sure to have models of his father’s ships so he can always see how powerful they are and how well protected his daddy is.

They are far too young to fully understand the concept of time, under ways, and military life, and I hope and pray I am able do enough to help them cope and somehow make sense of all this. It is times like these that pulls at your heartstrings.

Standing alone in the kitchen, I hear the exhaust fan still running on high from when he cooked his breakfast. He always leaves it on. I beg him to stop leaving it on all the time because it perpetuates the mold problem in our home and the humidity is ridiculous here. Through some tears, I think about how it is so irritating that husbands don’t listen sometimes. And then I realize what I’ll miss the most… Everyday life. The irritating. The loving. The annoying. The sweet and wonderful. All of it.

 

I will miss him so much that I will even start to miss hearing the exhaust fan still running every morning. I will miss him telling me that he loves me. I will miss him kissing our children goodnight every evening. I may even miss his military gear everywhere… Okay, maybe not the gear everywhere.

 

In every military enforced separation, you really do miss the everyday life the most. The regular stuff that simply makes life…well…everyday life. It is not over yet though. In a week, in a month… someday soon enough, that ship will sail into Sagami Bay and my husband will return home. Our family will be together again. We will go back to irritating and loving each other all in the same breath. And life will go on as it always does.

Because this sailor?

Yeah, he is mine forever.

And I would not change it for the world.