Distractions

I just couldn't go home after church today. I drove out and spent the afternoon with some friends and I couldn't seem to leave their house. I got so tired I had to head for home but it was hard. I felt the sadness wash over me as soon as I got in the truck and the quiet set in again. It is nice to have so many distractions in my life, so many people who want to help me through this time. The hard part is when all of the distractions are done for the day, when there is no distracting left to do. Then the reality sets in and I'm right back where I started, missing Nathan and wishing for this all to be over with. Each day makes me miss him and long for him ever more than the day before. I feel disconnected and incomplete. I just want him home with me and I want to snuggle up next to him in our bed tonight. I'm sad and I feel very alone. Even the dogs don't seem to be able to calm me tonight. Sleep seems to be the only solution so I'm off to bed. Hopefully tomorrow will be full of distraction.

Tonight I thank God for Nathan and I thank Him for the passing of another day. We're one day closer.

Our Empty Home

There is something that is deafeningly quiet about our home now. I feel the absence of him in a way unlike any I've felt thus far. Having him here for that short time had this quality of infusing him into this place. I can't hardly open my eyes in our apartment, our truck, or our town, without seeing him. His gloves are sitting on the passenger seat of the truck and his clothes are in the dirty laundry basket. I took the dogs to the park earlier this week and all I could see were my memories of him playing and running around with our dogs, Whiskey and Gunner. We were really a family for those two weeks. It was Nathan and me and our two boys and the world was just as it should be. Now it is just me and the dogs, our boys, and all is no longer as it should be.

I just watched the movie that we saw on our last date before Nathan left Vermont. We had been together eight days and I remember crying in his truck in the parking lot after the movie. I remember the feeling that a part of me was leaving and I would never be whole again. The problem with that feeling is that it is only magnified by our marriage and the growth of our bond. Today I miss him in a way I never thought possible. I've been hurt before and I've gone through things that caused a lot of pain but never have I been so vulnerable to someone else. Nathan touches parts of me that I didn't know I had. He has become a part of me and I feel so exposed and so lonely without him.

It breaks my heart to think of where Nathan is tonight. I know that he is sleeping in an uncomfortable bed in a trailer in the desert. For the next six months he won't feel any of the comforts of home. He won't be close to me and I won't be able to touch him, to hold him, to help him heal his hurts and to share his joys. For the next six months he will live his work day in and day out without rest. For the next six months he will be virtually alone, separated from everyone that he loves in a harsh world of dangers and frustrations. For the next six months I will miss him and worry for him with every fiber of my being. For the next six months we will both learn infinitely large lessons in leaning on and trusting in our Lord.

I would give anything just to be there with him, to comfort him and to help him sleep at night. All I really want is to be there to hold onto him when his day has gone badly and to listen to his wonderful stories of his time with the Iraqis and all of his adventures. I want to be there to be his sounding board and his shoulder to cry on. I want to support him and to be all that he needs me to be. Sometimes this empty house and these 12000 miles make me feel so helpless and so alone.

Tonight, in the striking reality of the absence of Nathan, I'm thankful for my dogs, who lay right by my side and keep me sane through all of this. They don't say anything awkward or attempt to understand something that they will never be able to relate to. They just lay here next to me and let me know that they are here and I am not alone. I'm thankful that God knows where I'm at and He sees me through all of these days. I'm thankful that He will care for Nathan when I cannot. I'm thankful that He cares for me and has provided a faithful, loving husband and in his absence two faithful, loving dogs.

A Perfect 15 Days

Many people have asked me this week how my time with Nathan was and my response has been that it was just perfect, beyond what I could have imagined. We didn't do anything special, no trips or adventures. It was just us and our dogs (Nathan would also have me mention the presence of our cat) for two solid weeks. We spent much of our time alone together curled up in a chair or on the couch or in the bed. We were quiet much of the time as well. Being together spoke volumes more than any words we could have shared. I don't feel like our time was anything other than ordinary and that made it extraordinary. When you live seperate lives on different continents the ordinary things of life are what you miss most about one another. I commented to a dear friend that the presence of Nathan's whiskers on the sink after he shaves is one of the greatest things I have ever seen. I loved doing our laundry and pulling out socks and underwear that didn't belong to me. I loved being forced into watching Ultimate Fighting on Spike (Television for Men). I loved that I finally had someone to eat my takeout leftovers and share extra large deserts with me. I loved feeling his hand absentmindedly playing with my hair at the movie theater and in line at the grocery store. I loved knowing he was in the room, even if he was looking at the latest trap shotguns online. I loved hearing him make his coffee in the morning and listening to him chat with the dogs while he thought I was still asleep. I loved that he kissed me and wrapped the blankets a little tighter around me when he got out of the bed before me. I loved listening to him recap the walk he took with our dogs and how well they did and how both pups peed and pooped. (We find great success and joy when our dogs release their bladders outdoors and we always share the intimate details with one another.) I truly loved every moment of Nathan's time here. I loved every nuance and every gesture and every tilt of the head. I settled into being his wife over the past couple of weeks. I grew comfortable with the role and with myself, just being around him. He calms me, slows me down, teaches me to be a better version of myself. I am blessed to spend any time with him at all, let alone the rest of my life.

As much as my heart aches for him now and as much as I long to bury my head in his chest once more, I am so very grateful to have had him here for the time that I did. He is my angel, sent by God to lead me through this life. I couldn' t be more grateful for Nathan than I am right now, in the midst of missing him I am overwhelmed with just how incredible a man he truly is. Tonight I thank God for the blessing of my husband and for the blessings found in missing him as much as I do. God is able to make our worst moments into blessings and I'm thankful for that.

Numb

I don't have any idea how to express the numbness and the loneliness that I feel today. I miss him more than I will ever be able to put into words.

You Owe Nothing...

A month and a half have passed since I last posted. Much has been happening in our lives. I moved into a new apartment in the month of September and spent much of my free time preparing for Nathan's arrival in early October. He is here with me now, in his boxers and t-shirt. He just kissed me on his way into the kitchen and told me that I am the love of his life. It's nearly midnight and we have just two short days left before he leaves on his return flight to Iraq.

I felt compelled to write tonight for many reasons. As with most of my entries, I come to this place when all of the emotion of this journey grows beyond what my heart and mind can handle. I come here when it is time to put some of it down on paper, in words, so it can be quietly released. In all of the joy of the past two weeks, there has been a looming sorrow in both Nathan and I. The return to Iraq hangs over us like a giant black cloud. We have yet to have a time in our lives where we can truly experience the solitude and peace of routine and normalcy. We both seem to be wondering if we might ever experience normalcy.

In the midst of all of our questions and all of our fears, there are mountains of sweet blessings that remind me that God is with us and that He will see us through the path He has given us. Tonight offered one of those sweet blessings and reminded me that in a world where there are men who desire to kill my husband, there are also those who desire to honor him and to thank him for the sacrifices he makes.

The owner of the company I work for was kind enough to give us a gift certificate to a very nice steakhouse in downtown Minneapolis, Manny's. It is a very expensive, very classy sort of place. Not the kind of restaurant that Nathan and I usually find ourselves in. I was excited to be able to go someplace nice and we both decided that we would make use of the gift just before he returned to Iraq. We thought it would be a nice way to cap off our wonderful time together. I wore a new dress and Nathan donned a suit and tie just for the occasion. We made a late dinner reservation and we were asked if we were celebrating anything special. I mentioned that this would be our last night out before Nathan returned to the war and the maitre'd said he would make a note of it. We both enjoyed a beautiful cut of steak and a loaded baked potato. We held hands nearly the whole time at our table and we exchanged very few words. It was a rather somber dinner, but it seemed to fit both of our moods. Our waitress brought us the most incredible dessert I have ever seen and we both smiled as we shared our giant brownie concoction. Dinner was over and our waitress, Theresa, arrived with our check. She laid it open on the table in front of us and it said "You Own Nothing". Our $130.00 check had been taken care of; we didn't owe a thing. Theresa assured us it was correct and then she left our table. I teared up and tried not to break down in front of the crowd of people still dining around us. Theresa returned and again reassured us that it was the least that they could do. She thanked Nathan for his service and explained that she had left the table because she was teary as well. She was so kind to us and she seemed genuine and sincere. We left her a tip and then proceeded to the coat check to pick up my coat. The man checking the coats thanked Nathan as well and even came out into the hall after we left the restaurant to wish Nathan well, just one more time.

Our experience this evening may seem trivial to some. To me it was miraculous and touching. The words our waitress wrote on that receipt, You Owe Nothing, struck me. The whole evening seemed to offer a message of appreciation to my dear, sweet soldier. A message that says, you don't owe anyone anything, but we all appreciate that you sacrifice for us regardless. That is just the thing about my husband, and other men just like him. He could have chosen a life that served him more than anyone else. He is a strong, intelligent man who is unbeliveably capable and competent. He could have all the cars he loves, a giant home, a warm comfortable bed, decadent food, a career that provides much more than he would ever need, and a life that meets his every want and desire. He chose a life that is more about protecting others than about selfish gain. He chose a life of sacrifice because that is who he is. He does all of this because he is honored to be a citizen of this country and even more honored to defend it at any cost. He doesn't owe us anything. He has chosen to defend us; he has chosen this life. I am so thankful tonight, that someone else chose to honor him and to say thank you in a way that really touched us both. We had hoped for a nice dinner to cap off our very short time together. What we got was so much more than that and I am reminded that no matter how much my heart aches, my husband has made a choice and I couldn't be more proud and more thankful of his sacrifice.

Tonight I thank God for people who honor my Soldier's faithful, diligent work and I thank God for all of those who stand watch tonight while we rest in one another's arms just one more time.