How Do We Do It?

I've been asked this a few times, and I know every milso (military significant other) has.

"How do you do it?" How do you not? What we do as girlfriends, fiancées, boyfriends, husbands and wives to military members is no different from what you do with your husband who works in a cubicle. He gets sent down to L.A. for a week of training; our husbands go to month-long trainings. They have business meetings you can't go to, our husbands have briefings we can't go to.

Though, at the end of the day, nothing bad happens when your husband mentions something over the phone. Our husbands and wives have to play it safe. That is one of the worst things for me, I'm a nosy person and there are things I just can't hear unless face-to-face. I get it, it just sucks.

In a private group for Air Force wives, a lot of new wives have recently joined since their husbands shipped out to BMT, or are about to. They're emotional and questioning. I remember those days well. I was confused, lonely and sad. It is weird to see me not be a newbie anymore, but I'm definitely not a pro. But us older wives can give tips for BMT, because we were there.

One wife said this, which triggered this post:
"... I realized that basic [BMT] wasn't just for him, it's our basic too learning how to adapt to life while they are gone and becoming strong hearted."

I haven't considered it such, but it is true. We have no choice but be strong for our loved one who enlists. BMT is a great experience to learn distance, to be a couple without being together. It strengthens the relationships that are meant to be, and sadly severs the ones that aren't. BMT, and tech school, is a test to our relationships.

So as they're learning to take apart an assault rifle and shoot said rifle, we're learning to stand on our own and handle life without our rock there. We're learning to be the rock, the constant that our loved ones need. We're getting a glimpse into what deployment will be like. I say glimpse because at the end of the day, in BMT they are safe. They get yelled at and are stressed out all the time, but they are not deployed. But we still don't know when we'll talk to our loved one. We still are facing life alone while they're working. We're learning how to cope with problems without our loved one there.

So to bring it back around, how do we do it? Well, we have that experience from BMT. We know what it's like to stare at our phones right after they leave, hoping for a text, but knowing we won't get one. We know what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night due to a phone call, hoping it's them. We've faced it alone before. We know what it's like to have no contact: no letters, no phone calls, texts, or Skype calls.

So when we find out their orders are a TDY to Guam, or an unaccompanied tour to South Korea, we know we can handle it. We have Skype for seeing them and dates. We can text. We can play phone tag, too, but that's no fun! We can send pictures, write letters if we wish. We can send each other packages with gifts.

BMT is why I can do what I do. Why I don't cry myself to sleep. Why I can smile and say five more months. It's really easy in comparison.

Anniversary of Joshua Shipping Out/Wedding

A year ago today, my now-husband, Joshua, shipped out to BMT. We watched him swear in, and get into the bus that would to take him to the air port, to his new life. That goodbye was the hardest. His parents cried, I cried... I can't quite remember if Joshua cried. I know he was nauseous; afterwards we realized it was due to the fear of saying goodbye.

Ten months ago, we watched Joshua become an Airman and get his first coin. The pride I felt that day made those two months of loneliness, fear, anxiety and sadness nothing. It was all worth it. On top of that, he looks damn good in ABUs and his Blues. (I prefer ABUs because I don't see them as much).

Nine months ago, the earth-stopping (at the time) news: his first duty station was South Korea, unaccompanied. I was with my mom eating at Popeye's. Just as I finished, I got a phone call from Joshua, which was random (usually it was later in the day, when he was getting ready for bed). My heart sank. We were waiting for his orders for his first base, after Tech School.

I answered the phone and he started the call off with: "So, I've got bad news."

I just knew it. I didn't want South Korea; I knew I couldn't go. "You got your orders?"

"Yeah," he replied. I knew he didn't want to tell me.

"South Korea?"

"Yep."

"And it's unaccompanied, right?"

"Yes." 

In the matter of a day, I, in essence, went through DABDA [Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Anger]. It's the five stages of grief. I didn't lose a loved one, but I was certainly grieving. I didn't cry, but God every time someone asked, I got mad. Let me just grieve a day before bombarding me with questions! Days like that make me wish I had a room of my own.

Six months ago, I was dreading the goodbye. The fact Joshua was going overseas, to South Korea nonetheless, and it was for a year. But life moves on after that goodbye. After the tears are shed, you move forward. You get busy. Before you know it, six months is over, and leave can be taken.

Thank God for mids [night shift] and that Joshua was given mids. It made our talking regularly possible. During day shift, it's phone tag all day long.

So fast-forward to the last three weeks. Joshua almost didn't make it home for our wedding! He called his mom at midnight our time and needed a ticket. I love my in-laws, because they bought him a ticket. I woke up to two texts: one from Sheri and one from Joshua. Both saying similarly.

I drove up to San Francisco to get him. Everyone kept asking if I was up for the long drive, to a place I'm not familiar with. I wanted the privacy, some time with Joshua before he had to share his time with everyone (by the way, that's very difficult!). I did it just fine. I had my phone's GPS, printed out instructions, and I can read signs telling me "152 West, this way."

Nothing prepared me for San Francisco International though. My God, so many overpasses! I could take a wrong turn and be farther away. Or perhaps wind back up on the freeway. But I managed. Joshua found me, and we were together once more. He wanted to surprise me and go somewhere for the night. I suspected Monterey, but he kept denying. Till we were in Monterey.

The week passed in a blur and our wedding was happening! Here are some of my faves!

I was sinking in the sand -- it didn't help with my lack of height.

"I lied at prom," he said.

The train is what sold me on this dress.

My sister, Danielle, spent hours on my hair for the knot lol

Unity sand!

I couldn't even hold my bouquet since Joshua wanted to hold hands. I was gonna trip otherwise.

Can you tell which nail is photoshopped? I chipped my paint on the car ride over to the wedding site.

This is my all time fave. (My mom just told me she liked this one too, which makes me happy)

I love this one for his ribbons.

The next day was our reception -- which we were late to. But it all worked out. We had 90 RSVPs, only 40 showed up. I was sad, but who showed up was who mattered, so it worked out well. We got disposable cameras for pictures, but they need to get scanned and edited (a lot of really dark ones). But it was nice.

And next thing I know, it's August 6th, anniversary of Joshua shipping out to BMT, and he's leaving for South Korea. I was "fine." I was anxious for the goodbye. My heart was pounding and my stomach was lurching. I didn't feel sad until Brian walked away to cry, and then Sheri started crying. Empathy sucks. When Joshua hugged me goodbye, I was able to talk, unlike six months ago. I couldn't talk otherwise I would start crying. At least today I could talk!

Sadly, since there's been one missing Malaysian air liner and another being shot down, every time Sheri got a phone call, I had a mini panic attack. I'm not sure why, since I'm his emergency contact, but yeah... I was very anxious.

It's amazing what the military has done to my perspective. I was clingy, so very clingy. After BMT, I appreciated his presence, even a text, a whole lot more. After tech school, I realized I can only take so much talking on a phone before I start suggesting he call his mother. And after the first six months of Joshua's tour, I realize it does get easier.

The good bye is the hard part, waiting's easy.