Knee Deep in the Hooah!

Well we have talked about land navigation here on this blog, so why not talk about a far more dangerous venture? That dangerous place to tread is the human heart. It’s not just the human heart — well the symbol we use for our emotional core, but the human heart in turmoil. To be even more specific the female human heart in turmoil. OK, why did a bunch of guys just hit the “close window” button on their browser? Hm. Well, let’s tread this ground. It should only be tread by the brave any way. It’s not a place for the faint or for the weak at heart. If you are still reading at this point, then you are probably brave enough to enter.

I just had a very painstaking phone call with my husband. I can not go into details because that would not be fair to him or to that intimate place in our marriage where we are free to tell each other anything that is on our mind at a given time. We try to be very open and honest with one another. It gets harder when the distance starts to erase the face of the person you love. When you stop remembering the exact shape of his eyes or the way he looks at you when he knows you are holding back and not telling him the whole truth.

We are in a hard position right now. We are in a very tough place. The hardest part is we are being demanded to make decisions, but no one wants to give us any information. So, we are being asked to make a jump, a leap and take a huge risk. This risk could involve a huge pay off in the long run, and it could also mean financial ruin for us in the long run. It is always so hard when the ends of the possible results are further away from one another in distance than the opposite points on a compass. Of course if both possible outcomes were mild and both were acceptable it would not be a risk then, really. Do we go North or South? Do we go East or West? We would like to know. It feels as if we have been given a compass and a map, but the problem is those tools are calibrated to fit another geographical location. Those tools are not meant for this land, but we are not given any new navigation instruments. We are simply told to decide which way we think we should go.

I have to reach back and remember what it was that brought us here in the first place. Then I have to navigate my heart to see if I can relocate some of the emotion that may have been tied to that initial spark that caused a roaring fire for being an Army Officer for my husband. I can remember my husband’s face. I am weeping while I write this because I am slowly starting to forget the finer details of his face. I remember his eyes though. They are very big and very blue. Those eyes are often the first thing that people notice about him. I remember his smile too. I worry because it has only been 5 months since we have been separated. Either I am just getting old (shush your snickering!) or this must be common. I mostly remember right now, as I write this, that there was a certain tone in his voice when he talked about joining the military. A tone of confidence, surety, command and excitement. A tone I had not heard in his voice before when he talked about his other work.

My husband is a man of Faith. He does not think that the answers to life and finding the key to who he is will be found within himself or within an institution. It is not that kind of an excitement or tone I remember hearing that day. The inflection in his voice was not one of a man with an identity crisis. He wants to serve. He wants to lead. He wants to provide a living for his family, while he provides leadership in a position and within an organization that helps people live — that helps people live freely.

I have a lot of influence on my husband’s choices. He would never make a decision this big without considering my voice, and how it affects me now and in the long run. Of course that will not be the only deciding factor, nor should it be. It is still influencing, and that is a scary position to be in. Do I tell him to go for it? Do I tell him to lose all of his cautious overtones, jump hard and fast, and we will land somewhere at the bottom together? Do I tell him to play it safe, quit now while the quitting is good and let’s start fresh? I have to pick my words carefully. I can be persuasive when I need to be. Sarcasm and rhetoric are two of my favorite past times.

You know my answer, don’t you?

I can’t use the lure of starting fresh and taking it easy for a while to convince him to stay home. He has to do what he has to do to make this right with himself and to accomplish what he set out to accomplish. We have barriers, we have time issues and we really don’t want to live apart any longer than we have to. I will not manipulate the situation with the lure of home and some promise that he can put it all behind him once he is here. I know he can’t. I would rather my husband try with all of his heart, mind and body and land on the hard end of this risk than for him to sit and ever allow for one moment of doubt to eat at him when he is old and the days are long and quiet. I would rather deal with a broken bone than a broken spirit.

Tags: Posts by Claire //