The Emotional Toll

It starts with a look—you know the look. The one that tells you to control your face and hold your heart. The look that says after this moment, things will change. That’s the look that I got tonight from my husband.

As a military spouse, I know this look all too well. It is the one that precedes big news. The news could be that we’re moving, that Chris is going away for training, or the big one—that he is about to deploy.

In those moments, I know, all arguments get set aside, all annoyances no longer matter. This is the time to simply soak it all in. Soak in the words, the touches, the smiles. I leave some things unsaid: the questions that linger in my mind, the comments about how unfair this all feels, and the concerns for the uncertain future.

Now is the time for strength. The time to show Chris that everything will be alright. When he deploys, his soldiers need to be his primary focus. My job now is to prove that he doesn’t need to worry about me.

I have a support network. And I will lean on them more heavily. My mom will probably get multiple FaceTimes with a fussy baby daily (more than she already gets). And I will make plans for when this lockdown ends.

For now, I will revel in the fact that I get to set up the house how I want it. Sorry babe, you had your chance. I told you tonight to voice anything that you wanted done with the house. Your silence was my allowance.

Remember those cow decorations that you love? Definitely going up in the kitchen and not in a box for storage. And demijohns everywhere.

I will be fine. I have Owen to be strong for. And when this is all over, this will be but a story. Albeit a good story… remember that crazy time? That time when we had a baby, then moved from Germany to the US, during a global pandemic, after which you got deployed.

Yeah, that was a crazy time.