Proud with a Good Dose of Envy

I am heading to Norfolk this morning to say goodbye to my husband as he and five thousand of his fellow servicemen deploy to the Gulf with Carrier Strike Group Ten.  In true military fashion, I don't even know when he'll be home.  Before Christmas is about all I have right now, but I am hoping for before Thanksgiving.

I am filled with a wealth of emotions...

Loneliness -- Bob is my partner, my lover, my husband and my best friend.  I am dependent on him physically as he rubs me down at night and mentally as he supports my unemployment woes and parenting dilemmas.  My Mom (a highly independent woman), would probably argue that I am overly dependent, but I know that my heart is safe with Bob.  I have let down my guard and have been rewarded with a connection so powerful that at times, we don't need words.  Bob is my rock and I will miss him terribly.

Sadness -- The image of me waving goodbye on the pier set to Come Home Soon by SHeDAISY  keeps playing in my head.  A summer alone with the kids.  Foregoing our annual Duck vacation.  Kids' birthdays celebrated without Dad.  I know this is the Navy life, but I can't help feeling melancholy about it. 

Freedom - Yeah, I said it.  And Bob knows it too.  Being alone ain't all bad.  The fine balance a couple finds by accommodating their other half can be thrown to the wind temporarily.  I control the thermostat!  And although Bob never interferes with my Aquarian need for me time, now I can study and workout without the seductive draw of spending time with my sweetie.  Yes, this is me trying to find the silver lining in this cruddy deployment cloud.  I will happily give up all these freedoms the second Bob steps back on that pier later this year (well, maybe not the thermostat control).  And how much freedom can one really have with four kids and two dogs? 

Fear -- I guess I have a naive false perception of safety since Bob will be embarked on the carrier for majority of the time.  I am not completely panicked like I would be if he was an infantryman in Afghanistan.  I don't know how those families cope.  At least we'll have email and some phone connectivity.  That all being said, if a day or two goes by and I don't hear from him, expect me to be a complete wreck.  I am not religious, but I am asking and will keep asking the fates for Bob's safe return.  I cannot imagine my life, my family, without him.  He is our big toe.  

More Fear -- Not for Bob's safety, but for my sanity!  Job hunting + summer break with four kids (ages 20 to 7) = craziness.  Thankfully, I've had the last year of geobatching (Bob in Norfolk during the week, home on weekends) to prepare me for this. 

Envy -- Bob loves what he does.  He will tell you he was born to drive ships, but I think he was born to lead.  I envy his passion and his unwavering commitment to what he does for a living.  He actually enjoys what he does and it is evident when he is in his element.  I've never had that (although I am finally on the right path).  I also envy his ability to venture out on this exciting journey.  Yes, I know it would not be possible without my support at home and no, I would not want to live on a big ship in the middle of the ocean for months and months, but it is still hard to be the one left behind.  I continue with the same old day-to-day, while he gets an exciting adventure. 

Excited -- Bob uses deployments as time to refocus and detox.  He typically loses weight and adopts healthier habits.  I am eager to see what this deployment brings for him and his overall wellness.  

Proud -- Above all, I am proud.  I love my Navy man and all that comes with it.  This is what he does, what we do.  His career is masculine and primal.  I sometimes lose perspective when he is at home doing laundry or cutting the grass, but when I see him being saluted by junior officers or see him commanding a room with his presence and wit, I am reminded that my man is the Commodore.  My fundamental feminine ways get all aflutter thinking of him being in charge (and wearing his hot, blue camis!). 

I've often said that I think the pre-deployment will likely be worse than the deployment.  Anticipating Bob's leaving is harder than him being gone.  I can't say I'm eager for him to leave, but I am ready.  So at 9am tomorrow, I will wave goodbye, knowing that on Saturday morning we will be one day closer to him being back home where he belongs.