extensions

When a civilian hears the word "extensions," what is their first thought? Hair extensions? Tax file extension? Maybe something else... I can't be sure. It's been some time since I've felt like a civilian, even though, technically, I am a civilian.

When the Army community (I'd include the other branches, but this epidemic seems to only be affecting the Army) hears "extension", our response is automatic. We don't think of Paris Hilton and how it's possible for her to have really short hair one day, and long locks another. No, our response is automatic... fear grips, and desperation clings to the back of the throat. We hold our breathe while battalions, brigades, and sometimes, divisions are announced. In some instances... none are announced. This just leaves us thinking of hope. Praying... it's not us, it's not our neighbors, it's no one that we know... that is "extended". Then again, how can we not fret for our "brothers and sisters"? How can we not?

Our response is automatic... tour "extensions". We hate them. They come at the most inopportune time: anytime.

The worst thing about the announcement of "extensions"... is when we hear it on network news. When we haven't been given the respect of knowing before the general public knows... my mom knew before I. This is a serious flaw in the dissemination process. You may, or may not, recall this post last November in which I expressed my excitement for the changes to come. The announcement of "extensions", does not bode well for my attitude towards the Secretary of Defense... no, it does not.

Excitement does not linger. It loiters. It pisses me off. I haven't the official "your husband's unit will deploy for 15 months" confirmation yet so it leaves wanting and waiting once again on my freaking doorstep. It's banging on the door and ringing the bell... it's turning hope into anxiety, and loyalty into regret. It doesn't even wipe its feet! It's inconsiderate. It doesn't lay off when I close my eyes at night and attempt to sleep... it fights the muscles in my eyelids... forces my eyes to roll underneath...

"We don't know... what we don't know." I hate that answer.

Nature took a shower.

Last night, I slept with the Rain. Its patter beating an open window and cool breath tickling my nose. I had the most peaceful sleep of these weeks past. Although, husband was not here, and the bed is not my own, I was still calm. I did not wake to use the restroom or toss and turn in search of comfort. I just slept.

Yet, once again... I find myself missing husband. Longing for his weight opposite my side. Dreaming of his heavy breath at my back... or in my face. It is a sweeter sort of missing. For he is not 7,000 something miles away... only 600. Still in the same state... still in my calling network. I can pester him all day with questions, I love yous, or just listen to him breath as he watches TV. Or, as I have done, I can imagine him in his habitat... OUR habitat... searching for something easy to eat, playing with Zora, or just reading... in OUR bed. Although, I'd rather be home, this feeling of sweet longing is just fine for now.

In the daylight, as I close the window, the remains of last night's water still lay on the seal, resisting overwash by today's continuing downpour.

pictures! don't get excited... it's just my yard.

Well, my house is clean, the yard is clean and decorated, Zora got a bath, the cat box got cleaned, the fridge is stocked, the sheets are washed, the lawn is mowed, the car is vacummed and full of gas... is there anything else? Oh yea, I better get in the shower and start the grooming ritual!! For by this time tomorrow, my hubby and I will be watching the sun set on our year apart... Our lives becomes "Our Life."

Here are a few pictures of what Matt will see when he gets home. I'll take some of the welcome home ceremony, and post them when I come up for air. ;)

Here's what Matt will see when we round the block towards our house... see Zora in the yard... she will have a t-shirt on. I'll post pics of that another time.


Here's what he will see when we turn the corner...


and what's in his face when we enter the driveway...


Here is what our Service Star Flag looked like on the day I put it up...


and one year later when I will take it down...


Well, that's all I've got for now. Stay tuned!

waiting to hear the best words, and waiting to breathe

I had a dream... I had a dream about my wonderful husband... It was lovely. I won't go into the details; you don't want to imagine them. I woke, and I swear, just as the sky is blue, I heard Matthew say, "Hey Hon?"

Two words that didn't carry very much weight.

"Hey Hon?" As if he were looking for his brown socks, phone charger, or shoe polish.

Words that have more of a hidden meaning than "I love you." Words that let you know... all is normal, or, as it should be, at least.

"Hey Hon..." as he begins a sentence that ends with his adoration of my "pretty little doe eyes."

Oh how I've missed the every day of love life... the every day ordinary...

"Hey Hon... do I have any clean shorts?"

When he says "hey hon," I can feel, with the breath he takes before speaking, how much he loves me. And, I am thankful.

"Hey Hon..." And we've picked up... like we never "left off".

"Hey Hon? Want some popcorn?" "...let me get you some coffee." "...what's my mom's telephone number?" "...does the car have gas?" "...want to go to a movie?" "...I love you."

Two words that didn't used to carry much weight... words I'd pay to hear.

"Hey Honey... I'm home."

EDIT:

I am so close... I am so close to all of the previous joys I have missed dearly. I am so close that sometimes, I almost breathe deep, and sigh out my worries. Then, I go to Today In Iraq, a frequent read, and the fear comes, and the tears come. The tears come because, I don't know where he is...? I have no idea... he could be in Baghdad, Ballad, Kuwait, or... he could be flying over the ocean, sleeping soundly and safely... on his way home. But, I can't lose sight... I can't lose sight of what is truly at stake... I must not... I waste not.

What I feel right now... is the worst feeling. It's as if my veins might explode... this feeling comes within a singular moment. Sometimes it happens everyday... sometimes it's only every three days... sometimes it's on the hour... it's completely fucking random. It's that moment when a person imagines the worst. And, I can't stop it. Only seeing his signature "I'm in uniform" walk off that bus and into my arms... will quiet the beast that beats just beneath my skin, and behind my eyes, enveloping my heart.

"We preserve democracy; we don't practice it."

I just caught a welcome home ceremony on TV from Fort Carson. It's nice to see what I'm in for, and also, it's a sad wake up call. All the news can talk about is how 4ID Soldier's have been told to be ready to return to Iraq next Fall. I've tried so hard not to focus on this fact...

The Army... We are not part of regular society... we can vote... but have little say in what happens with our life. I'm so scared, and a bit excited, to see what changes will be made in the Secretary of Defense sector, as well as Congress.

Will they be beneficial? Or, detrimental. I don't know. We'll see...we will see. At the end of the broadcast, the reporter quotes an old saying, "We preserve democracy; we don't practice it."

Sad, but true.

I just want him home.

November? Seriously?

I can't believe this is near its end.

I've told myself, "You will not cry."

This is like telling your kid not to ask for toys when you go to Walmart... or getting through an entire talk show without a crack made at the President, or a rambling about how Brit and K Fed's split was so "unexpected".

Who am I kidding? I cry during Summer's Eve commercials when (fake) mother and daughter have a heart-warming discussion about their "freshness". I cried when Bobby on The Biggest Loser reunited with his family tonight!

The flood waters are coming... I just hope they don't last too long... I just hope Matt will get to the front of the line, rather than the back like last time... I just hope "reintegration" is as easy as can be... I just hope he doesn't have to go again... I just hope he gets home okay... I guess... I can only "just hope" for one thing.

I'm fucked...

haha... really fucked. Oh justice... how sweet you feel.

Nighty night.

and another one

Since insomnia is the name of the game... and being that I've had a VERY emotional day, I need a moment. A moment to pause, to reflect... to remember.

Yes, I await the way those blue eyes look grey when he's in uniform. I hold my breath until I see his grey patch of hair step off the bus, and into the gym. I can spot him from a mile away. I can smell him.

I'm not real... I'm unreal.

I don't know what to blog about. I'm coming up empty... that's never fun. I have several of the same-ol' same-ol' topics on my brain, but they just won't do. No, I need something fresh... something new. I need to wash my hands of the ugliness following me. I need to apply moisturizer. I need rub them dry, and place my rings on their respective fingers, and smell the freshness of the lotion... instead of the pungent old greasiness clinging beneath my nails.

I could blog about all the rain today... steady, smelly... BORING.

I could say how Mary left... that's just the same-ol' sad. Maybe some other time.

I could say how three weeks might as well be three months... he's still not here... but, see above.

I could say that I fear the disruption of quiet I have endured. I do not anticipate it's fleeting nature. The chattering of pictures that hang on the walls is familiar, and comforting. The jet powered hum of the AC as it stops and starts lets me know I'm home. I couldn't imagine being away from home for a month... a year? Oh never. I leave for a week, and I get crabby. I love home. I love home especially when home is home.

Home will be home... soon. OH there I go again... the same-ol' sad.

I'm just waiting.

still uphill

Every day is the same. Yet, every day I feel different. I feel as though this year passed has aged me double. Lessons I shouldn't have had to learn for years to come have made their presence known. Lessons on love, marriage, life, friendship, and common sense rear their maturity. I feel like a teddy bear must after hours in the rain. He's picked up by one leg, the soft water is squeezed from the inside... leaving him lighter, thinner, worn, and dry; Holes tatter his seems, and his button eyes are scratched or even missing. His faithful possessor still clings to him with love despite his wear and tear. The later part of this Teddy's story has yet to reveal it's ending. I'm unsure how my 25th year will close... it does tonight, and I will officially be in my late-twenties... I do harbor some hesitation to admit I am 26... not until 8:32am thank you very much... but, I have many things for which to be thankful. I am. I am grateful.

And, as always, I am missing a certain someone you all know as Matty.

His proximity suffocates me... His distance closes soon.

4 days and a wake-up...

Insomnia sucks. Insomnia especially sucks during a prolonged period of anticipation. Insomnia kills when you (for instance) don't really care for sleeping pills... especially when they don't quiet your mind anyhow. The waiting for sleep to come is a far greater annoyance. Always with the freakin' waiting. A story begins in my head... with me on a beach alone; a beautiful sunset accompanies me. This sunset becomes perfect when Matthew joins us. Pristine as they may seem, things can collapse and crumble with a shift in the Earth's crust. A tidal wave. Then, humanity rebuilds itself, and before I know it... it's 20 years later, I'm president, and I moonlight during the holidays as Santa.

Worse yet? Waiting... waiting... insomnia... waiting... then... delay...

4 days and a wake-up...