Knee Deep in the Hooah!

I was responding to another blogger’s post when I thought of the term “neurotic indulgence” concerning some of my quirkiness around my difficulties of late. I have these little quirky things that I indulge myself in concerning Mike’s deployment and Bryan’s leaving. I think it is a psychological (or maybe some will argue psychotic) trick to keep my mind on current and controllable things.

The shift in my reality and world is happening fast and furious. I welcome it, but it does not make it any less scary and difficult. I have mostly good days, but I still have a day or two when things are really difficult. On days like that I just crawl into bed at night and collapse. It wears me out. It is not a good kind of tired either.

So, what is a neurotic indulgence you ask? Since a “neurosis” tends to refer to a condition where someone feels a great deal of emotional stress — and often has an object that somehow pacifies the stress, then my indulgence is allowing myself the weakness of the object without shame.

For example, where Mike is concerned I have a few items he has given me that I simply can not bring myself to use. One is perfume and the other is potpourri beads that he had made for me. I set the potpourri out, but I can’t throw it away even when the scent is gone. I also can not erase his phone messages. I save his emails. Today I was packing pictures and I just couldn’t bring myself to pack my favorite picture of Mike. It was unthinkable to put my son’s picture in a box. Not now. Not now! Anything that I can look back on as evidence that he is somewhere on this earth helps me. It somehow eases my worry and my ache.

I always knew that his deployment would be hard, but honestly unless you have to let go of your son with the painfully sharp realization that you may never hug his neck again… you can never know how deep the pain can be. Somehow, in my own little indulgence, I feel like he is here with me a little when I smell that perfume or hear his messages. I can’t control one thing in the battlefield, but I can pray for him (and believe me I know what it means to pray without ceasing!), and I can enjoy memories of him through these little physical reminders of him.

I am now preparing for dealing with Bryan heading out. In one week from today I will be spending the last full day with my husband for several months. I already told him that we will not be packing his civilian clothes yet. I need to see his shirts hanging in my closet. I need to smell the faint fragrance of his cologne. I need to see his ties and remember how handsome he looks in his nice suit. I need to see his handkerchief and remember him helping Emma with a runny nose when she was sick. These are my things to hold onto. Perhaps it seems strange to some.

I remember a friend on RN telling me once that when her husband (he was a Marine) was deployed she put a flag up, and she said the thought of taking the flag down just floored her. She said that somehow she got comfort when looking at the flag flying. It was a close connection to her distant husband. An object of affection and hope for her.

Mike is deployed, Bryan is leaving and Noah just moved out to his own place. In less than a few months my family has been cut in half. Instead of cooking for 5-6 people I will be cooking for 3. We will all be reunited again… I have hope for that. The days in between now and then is what I must face.