Saying Goodbye: Take 2

If you weren't there the day in May that Nathan left for LTC (when he went to Kentucky), I'll just go ahead and tell you that there was a lot of crying involved. To Lindsay's credit, I think most of the hysterics were mine. Looking back, I really don't know what I was so upset about. I never went more than six weeks without seeing Nathan for a weekend, and I had to do that only twice. But of course you know what they say about hindsight.

One of the things that I remember Nathan's mother telling me about being an Army wife is that when your husband leaves, you have to keep it together. Last May was a miserable failure in that department. I have been promising myself ever since that next time, whenever that turned out to be, I would do better.

Next time turned out to be today. It was supposed to be in April, but the Army tends to not think about the delicate feelings of Army wives when making last-minute changes in plans. As long as there were still weeks between me and Nathan's deployment, I could push it out of my mind and avoid all the business details, the power of attorney, the figuring out what to do with his truck, how to contact specific offices on post for things. Nathan came home Friday afternoon and told me that we had six days to get things in order. That definitely threw a wrench in all my plans to avoid the inevitable.

In those six days, I kept getting this familiar panic feeling. What it reminded me of most were the exam weeks during sophomore year of vet school - this terrible thing is bearing down on you and you have to survive it somehow, but you can't figure out how to delay it no matter what you do. I tried staying up late to make the days seem longer (Makes sense, right? If you don't go to bed, the day isn't over...), but that just made me tired. I tried pretending each day was a normal day, but time seemed to fly anyway.

Once I realized there was no point in trying to pretend today wouldn't come, I had to start fighting off The Meltdown. I can't remember if I had one before Nathan was actually leaving last time, but I was determined I wouldn't have one this time until after he left. He's had enough to worry about. Like going to Afghanistan. I developed some pretty effective tactics, too. First, you might as well go about your day like it's a normal day. There is no point in histrionics. Second, once the business things are taken care of, keep discussions about deployment simple. Do not think, let alone say, things like "I don't know how I'm going to make it." or "What will I do without you?" These are overly dramatic, and why make your soldier feel guilty for leaving? He doesn't want to leave you, but he has to. Don't make him feel bad about it. Third, under no circumstances should you entertain the thought that he will not be coming back. Unless, of course, you want to have a psychotic break in the next 12 months. Will it cross your mind? Definitely. Should you immediately change your mental channel? Absolutely. Fourth, do not start crying or you won't be able to stop crying. When you feel tears coming on, think of something happy and hold your breath for a few seconds. This prevents uncontrollable sobbing. Once the urge to fall apart subsides, take a slow, deep breath. This got me through the last week, and most importantly, it got me through this morning. You don't have to manage to look happy. You just have to not make a fool of yourself in public.

I know how ridiculous all that sounds to an outsider. But if you ever find yourself putting your better half on a plane with body armor and guns, and praying he never needs to use either, you may appreciate the advice.

Now, If you'll excuse me, I think I've earned myself a good cry.