Knee Deep in the Hooah!

I hate the late night hours when I have a lot on my mind. It is in that time when Bryan’s absence resonates very loudly in my heart and head. My husband is quite a wonderful listener, and his shoulders truly carry my burdens.

I am a pretty staunch stoic and do not let my emotions seep out too much — not the difficult ones anyway. So, when he is absent I have to be mindful to not allow myself to slip into an old pattern of stuffing away the pain and indulging in the distractions of the day. I think I became a stoic when I was a single parent to my older boys for a period of time. It actually started before that when I was facing some very difficult circumstances.

I wanted the guys to have a reassurance that I could handle anything and deal with it in a manner of competence and resolve. It is hard to project that image when you are reduced to a puddle of tears all the time. So, I learned to swallow hard, look forward and move on. That period in my life left me a little harder and tougher than I wish it would have. It was necessary, and obviously God knew what I needed and provided me with ample opportunity to grow, learn and repent. The tough exterior I had grown accustomed to would be challenged at a later day by none other than Mr. Hooah! himself.

When Bryan and I first married I had a very hard time sharing my pain with him. He is a very astute observer (that’s both the science training and the artist in him). He could tell that my emotions were churning often before I could. He could also name it faster than I could deny it. It was unsettling at first! Suddenly I was no longer able to pull the wool over the eyes of someone close to me. I was transparent to him, and he wanted me to give him the burdens I was bearing — especially the ones I had born alone and for a very long time. Well, I should clarify that when I say alone I mean not sharing with another human. I am a Christian, and believe me that there have been many prayers uttered where all I could do is weep. In those moments of pain, panic and desperation there was always a peace for me — a peace and reassurance of the presence of a powerful and sovereign God. In that I could rest.

There were still many burdens I was carrying that were meant for two. Burdens that were meant to be carried by a man and wife. When that amount of responsibility is shifted by one party and placed solely on the other, it can be a crushing experience. So, for the first few years of our marriage we spent many wakeful nights talking. Well I mostly did all of the purging to begin with. Bryan had his moments too and together we found a way to balance out the burdens. He took on the burdens and then shared them with me instead of it being the other way around. He took them all, sorted them out, got rid of the unnecessary ones, and put the rest on his own shoulders. When I would feel a little haunted that I was not packing a great burden around any more, he would remind me that it is still there… only he was handling it now. The relief didn’t kick in right away. It has taken some time for me to let it all go and learn how to not respond to life with a knee jerk reaction.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I would handle his absence in the beginning. I had faith that God would sustain us both through this absence, but I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly or how that would all play out in the praxis end of life. In theory it sounds good, but what is it like where the rubber meets the road? This is where I am now. I really do considerably well most days. I am acutely aware of my missing husband, but memories are sweet and life is busy.

Night time is when those demons of old have to be dealt with. It is then that the doubts, fears and loneliness can creep back in. So, it is a constant struggle to hold on tight to the gift of burden sharing that my husband (and ultimately God of course!) has given to me.

This past week there were a few moments of hesitation when Bryan and I finally had a moment alone. He wanted to know how I was doing. I wanted to tell him that I was fine, and life was nothing short of peaches and cream! I didn’t even attempt to say that. He knows. So, it only took a few seconds for the tears to flow and the burdens to fall out of my mouth. He got an earful of my sadness and a backpack full of fears and struggles.

He heard how I opened an electronic newspaper one night before bed to read a leading story that a 22 year old PFC had been killed in Iraq — and I knew it was my 22 year old PFC’s Company. He heard how I took a deep breath and then wanted to scream because I had to read the article to see if the family had been notified yet. I didn’t want it to be my soldier, and seeing the name would confirm that it was not — however seeing that name was bitter because I knew that he was somebody’s son. Not mine, but another mother. I wanted to vomit.

He would hear about endless nights of battling ear infections with a toddler who had to be held down in order to be given a shot. I had to participate in forcing on her something that hurt her, and that she hated and resented, but she desperately needed. He heard all about moving our household without him here, the car breaking down for the billionth time. Really I re-read my letters to him with the embellishments that I did not offer while he was needing to focus on BCT.

There really is a difference between being the burden, and simply sharing your worries with your friend and confidant. It took me a long time to realize that I am not a burden to him, and so when we do have time to connect he can still handle hearing about the difficult stumbles I suffer along life’s path. Not only does he handle it well, but he wants to hear it.

Most of these thoughts came up for me while I was listening to my music while exercising the other day. I know I have mentioned before that I am a musical person. Music can really evoke a lot of feelings and memories for me. It’s funny because the song I was listening to is an old song (70’s) that I never gave much thought to before. I think the words have a newer and deeper meaning to me, which is why they caught my attention the other day. This is the first time I have listened to them from the perspective of a military wife who is missing her husband greatly. It is very poignant for me, and actually quite lovely now that I read it. I wouldn’t say I “go crazy” on my husband (Claire doesn’t do crazy!), but if crazy means a deep missing and longing for my husband in the evenings then I can own it.

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