Last night after writing my blog, I started to aimlessly look around my Facebook profile and looked at my pictures. I saw one of my husband and me at a friend's house over a year ago and it made me smile. I then went to my husband's profile, even though he doesn't get on it much, just to look at his pictures. As I scrolled through his wall, I saw his few posts since he deployed, and it made me start to miss him. I heard him saying the things he posted in his voice and saw his little picture next to it, and it made me feel like he was right here saying it. I also read some of our friends' responses to him. The show of support and love from our friends was heart warming. Again, it made me proud to be his wife, but I also missed him like crazy.
So, that is how I went to bed. Missing him. I went upstairs, unable to force myself to get in our bed, and settled for the recliner in the corner of my room instead. Just as I was about to settle in for the night, I got a text message. It was from my husband. He was telling me that he was back at the FOB and that he loved me. Those two simple sentences changed my mood. I had been missing him, mostly I think, because I was worried about him and it had been a few days since I had last spoken to him. Plus, I wasn't sure how long he would be out of contact. That one simple text allowed me to breathe again. I smiled and sent back a quick response telling him I loved him too and that I was happy to hear he was back. Daniel then came into my room after having a bad dream, so I ended up back in my bed holding him as he fell back asleep.
Today, I got to see my husband again via Skype. The kids got to talk to him for the first time in over a week. It was a great conversation. The kids were their normal selves and it made Ian smile and laugh. Just seeing his face again made me smile and I, again, took a deep breath just knowing he was okay. What a feeling! I was flying for the rest of the day.
It hit me about how my mood runs most of the time in direct correlation to the worry I feel for my husband. On days when I get to talk to him and know he is okay, I am pretty happy and determined to have a good day. On days when I haven't heard from him and am worried, I am more depressed, sad, and struggling to make it through the day. Those days when I am struggling, my kids might hear me say, "Just breathe" to myself. Most of the time, though, I am able to say it out of earshot of the kids and I have to tell myself to breathe just so I can keep it all together in front of them. An image of the time we have left that separates my husband and me or of his uniform hanging in my closet makes me want to cry, but if my kids are around, I can't. I have to keep breathing and keep from breaking down. "Just breathe," I whisper, "Just breathe." I can make it through the rough days if I just breathe.
Another day is done, and I am getting closer to his return and even closer to his R&R.
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