10 months down.
Where did this last month go? I’m really not sure.
This month has by far been the most stressed out month of my life. We closed on the house. Umm… well, when I say “we,” that means he said “yes” and sent a POA. So basically, I guess I closed on the house. I moved us in. Scratch that. I’m MOVING us in. There’s still one or two loads of ultra-tiny annoying things in the old house to move over. Yay me. But there’s a light at the end of that tunnel. It comes with a cleaning team next week and handing the keys over. Meanwhile, Jason is kindly remembering that anything I say during this month should be stricken fully from the record. I’ll be myself again once the boxes are unpacked. I think. Yeah.
So now, I’m sitting in this big house, thinking of paint colors to cover over the “welcome to my house” bright orange of my entry hall. Really, at night it seems to take on a life of its own and welcome visitors from about 3 counties away. There are boxes that mock me like an episode of Hoarders, and at some of them, I’m just shrugging my shoulders. When I get to it, I’ll get to it. As for the garage? HA! That stuff can sit there and wait for Jason (a.k.a. ruler of the garage) to sort it out. Because I’m mean like that. Because we’re close enough to this being done for me to actually be able to say that. Thank God that my mom flew in to be here. Without her, there’s no way I could have gotten all of this done. Ever. And how about those battle buddies? Two of my girlfriends saved me. They came, they painted, they mowed, they trimmed, they conquered. Thankful.
Another major stresser this month has been Brody and his epilepsy. On Thursday, his MRI came back clear. When I heard, I literally slid down the wall outside the movie theater in utter relief. It was like someone had taken me out of a nightmare. But now we’re left with more questions. Like if there’s nothing on the brain scan, how are we sure it’s Myoclonic Epilepsy? Genetics next? Catching it on video? It’s completely and utterly frustrating. We know there’s something wrong, I just wish his brain would spit out a report like a malfunctioning car. Just when he goes a week without an episode, today hits, and there the seizures are again.
This month our Brigade lost the Chinook with the Seal Team 6 members. It has been devastating and stressful to hear about that crash as well as other incidents that have occurred. It keeps reminding me that even though we’re in the home stretch, he’s no more safe today than the first day he flew over. I can’t begin to imagine the grief of those families. We live on a busier street now, so I don’t panic when I hear someone drive by the house as much. I hate that this has become our normal. That I actually think about things like that.
We are 10 months in. I feel further than 8,000 miles away from him. Maybe it’s the house. Maybe it’s because he’s never been here, and that’s why I can’t see him here. I can’t imagine him walking in from work, because he’s never been through the front door. Or the side door. Or the back door. His Harley has a dead battery and a flat tire. Well, the tire is fixed. Sorry, babe, the battery is all you. I feel like that bike is me right now. Dusty, flat, out of energy, sitting in a new place just waiting… umm. I’m going to stop that analogy right there. Why? Because in reading that to my mom we both just burst out laughing at where that could go. If you saw it too, then you either know me, or you’ve been at 10 months in a deployment too… ha!
So here I sit. 10 months in. 2 to go. This month has flown by because each and every moment has been spent moving, taking Brody to the doctor, moving, taking boys to football, moving… oh, did I mention moving? Yeah. This is the third house I’ve moved into by myself. Baby, the next PCS, you’re taking the kids and getting it done. I’m going to the spa. Just fyi. I feel like I’m reaching this point of independence that I never wanted to see. Not that I don’t need him; never that. But that I’ve forgotten how it feels to have back-up. I’m starting to realize that redeployment is just around the corner, and I’m going to have to find a way to hand over the wheel to at least let him co-pilot what I’ve been flying this whole year. Luckily I have a fantastic husband who understands my apprehension at the upcoming gear change.
I am 10 months in, and I am making it. We’re making it. And we’re almost there.