I had a good cry this morning. Well, who am I kidding, I had one last night, too. Those dark, wee hours of the morning are brutal sometimes.
I remember being told once, years ago now, by a wife of one of my husband's fellow Marines that I was "not a real Marine Corps wife" because I wasn't married to Ryan while he was a Marine. I met him in a very unconventional, but God orchestrated way, during his last deployment with the USMC and so I spent that last deployment with him. (How we met is another blog story for another day)
This wife then, as I was told later, made the remark that we would never make it because I wouldn't be able to handle him being gone, that I was too much of a spoiled brat to even try.
12 years later, 8 years of deployments/living apart later, here we are. Making it. More than making it, actually.
This week we got the orders handed down from our Texas governor that Ryan will be deployed for at least two weeks out of every month for the next year to aid the border crisis. That equals six months of the year away from him, and even when he is home he is still required to work his normal schedule for DPS. That doesn't leave a whole lot of time with us.
Deployments are nothing new to us. We had that last one as a couple in the Marine Corps and then Ryan spent 4 years as a security contractor for the government, working in Afghanistan at the embassy. After that, he lived for 3 1/2 years a few hours away for his assigned duty station with DPS.
Distance is no stranger to our marriage. We have struggled and fought to survive and worked so darn hard for what we have. We are closer than ever through all of this and I am so grateful God chose us for each other.
I am not writing today to brag about how great our marriage is and how awesome we are at surviving deployments.
I am writing all this to say, I am still human. I still struggle with the "why" question. Despite my experience and success with surviving this type of season of life before.
More than once a day I am told by friends and family - and strangers, too - that I am brave and strong for living this life with so much grace and patience. And I am thankful for their encouragement and praise. Always. It serves as a reminder that I may not be falling at life.
But I am human.
I cry. I have moments when I think, "this is NOT fair" and then wonder what it is like to have a life with a spouse that is not gone for half your marriage and most of your kids lives. What is it like to have a "normal" everyday life. But I am always so thankful for this life I do have with Ryan. Even with the struggle of distance.
Ryan only moved back home with us a year and a half ago. For 7 years of Crosby's 9, for 6 of Noah's 7, for 2 of Declan's 3, Ryan has not shared the same home as us.
So, yes, it is daunting and frustrating and terrifying and feels hopeless and I am angry and sad and wonder what it's all for, when I am told he will be coming and going again, for another year. I cry - sob, really - and wonder why was I chosen for this lifestyle? I am 100% confident that God created me for Ryan and Ryan for me, it has been so evident over the years and God has made it abundantly clear. I know I am in the right place, at the right time, for the right support for the right man. I am so thankful for that knowledge.
But it doesn't mean I don't have my moments.
Laying in bed alone last night I thought about the last year. Riots and anger plastered all over the T.V. and social media. Messages of hate against not just my husband for his job, but against me and even worse, my children because he chooses to selflessly serve our great state and country to defend us from evil.
Then throw a pandemic in there to make it interesting.
To say the last year has been difficult is a massive understatement. Does anyone else feel like they've been living in a dystopian novel?
Mourning what has been lost is normal. Crying about what you wanted but won't have is okay. It means your human. It is a natural response, and quite frankly, one that you cannot and should not ignore. Honor it by giving yourself a moment to be in that emotion, but you must always come out of it.
You carry on, and this is where you see your strength.
Many deployments later I am fully aware of what is coming, even if its a different kind of enemy Ryan will fight. It is still him being stolen away from us, time being taken from our children with their daddy. Moments postponed with my husband. Milestones of life missed. Holidays celebrated before or after the fact. Going to events and living life with a vacancy there.
Life doesn't always hold for the hero away from home.
Many deployments later I am fully aware that we will survive this. I pray for the day that we aren't in constant survival mode and can just live. Together. For more than a year.
To the ones who don't live this life, check on your strong friends who do. They won't ask for help. They won't cry in front of you - those moments are reserved for empty beds and closet floors in the dead of night. They won't complain, because they don't want to hear negative criticizers remind them that they "chose this life" and now must live with it, as if it were a prison sentence for a crime committed. Supporting a loved one and living God's path for you should not be responded to with petty statements.
To the ones who don't live this life, send them a dinner or take their kids for an hour to the park so they can just sit on the couch and do nothing or cry without having to be strong for the kids or so they can go to target and spend too much money without having to cart the kids around.
To the ones that don't live this life, know that they may say "no" to an invitation because sometimes life just seems to hard when you are in constant survivor mode. Please don't stop inviting them. Don't stop supporting them. Don't stop telling them that they are doing a fantastic job and its okay to cry, but just get back up as you wipe the tears off your cheeks. Then, help them up.
To the ones that DO live this life. I see you. You are not alone. I would remind you to be strong for your spouse who is gone, because it's just as hard on them, maybe worse being away AND being deployed, but you already know that. As do I. And we are reminded by so many who think we should suck it up and just get over it.
So, instead, I'd like to tell you something different.
To the ones that DO live this life - When you are sure that you have lost your mind, are exhausted, anxiety ridden, feeling like a terrible mom for snapping three too many times at the kids (sometimes, even before 8am), crying on the closet floor in the middle of the night, cursing in the shower (so the kids can't hear) at the political powers that do not send help and are too power hungry to care about other humans so your husband is taken, praying to just get through the next five minutes of life, hoping you have enough food to last for one more night so you don't have to run to the store after working (sometimes two jobs), when you feel like a failure for going through the drive through three nights in a row because you just have zero energy to cook anything, when your spouse calls and you put on the everything-is-great-and-we-are-doing-fine front... I feel your hurt. I feel your broken everything. I am praying for you. That ache that is so deep within that comes with the absence of the person you miss so incredibly much - there is no ache like the one of missing a loved one. Like a part of you is missing.
To the ones that DO live this life - hold on. It looks like a long road ahead, because it is. But it is not something unsurvivable. God picked you to be in this lifestyle because He knows you can do it. I know that doesn't make it easier, AT ALL, but maybe it can add a dash of hope to your longsuffering. Just enough to get you through the day, the week, the month. He is near, and He will never leave. Take heart in this truth. God will not let your longsuffering be wasted.
To the ones that DO live this life. You are most definitely stronger than you give yourself credit for. Lean into God and know that help is there, all you need is to ask. I am preaching to myself here with this one. You are strong. You are capable. You are enough. You are not alone.