I haven’t felt much like writing about the military lately.
I tend to have a delayed reaction to emotional events, and with Little J and me hitting the road for the East Coast so shortly after the Stennis deployed, it allowed for even more of a delay in dealing with J leaving. As a result, I think I’m just now fully entering into that emotional disorganization phase.
And it sucks.
Everyone knows that military life is hard. The constant moving, the separation, the crazy work hours, etc, etc. But I’m learning more and more every day that knowing it doesn’t mean you’re prepared for it.
What’s the most frustrating for me is this isn’t the longest separation we’ve been through. Last year we saw J three weeks out of the entire year. He was gone over eleven months, nine of which were consecutive. Compared to that, seven should be manageable.
I’m proud of what my husband does. He has a career that most people would never even dream of considering, and I can’t blame them for that. While I considered the military in passing back in the day, I never would’ve cut it. I certainly never would’ve been able to be a lifer. This is as close as I’ll come to wearing a uniform. I’m thankful for the opportunities the military has afforded us and will afford us before J retires.
But to be honest, these days the price for those opportunities seems awfully high.