All is fair in love and war

Love. Hate. Envy. Pride.  Weak. Insecure. Anger. Confusion. Sadness. Joy. Happiness. Foolish. Disdain. Embarrassed. Scared. Nervous. Hopeful. Distrustful. Surprised. Confident. Overjoyed. Grateful. Peaceful. Warm. Bitter. Worthless. Self-assured. Bereft. Hurt. Baffled. Rejected. Lonely. Strong. Helpless. Frightened. Inspired. Motivated. Jealousy.

Sissy and Little Brother making paper chains for the month of September. One link for every day that daddy is gone. We’ll have over 800 links by the time he comes home.

It’s hard to imagine feeling jealous and angry at a woman for something out of her control. I’m not so much upset with her, as the situation we find ourselves in. I’m deeply happy for the things she is being granted. I’m overjoyed that her kids get to share in her joy. I’m also, deeply shaken and jealous because she is receiving something I am not. And it’s not just one woman. It’s many women. It breaks my heart.

It’s been a month since my husband left me for the war. And I’m beginning to feel completely abandoned. I’ve talked to him once on the phone since he left and that was only because a miscommunication from someone else had him practically convinced that I had dismantled the car in our driveway after it caught fire and the breaks gave out while on the interstate. In truth, the check engine light came on and the car began to sputter a bit at higher speeds while on the interstate. That was on September 7. I haven’t heard my husband’s voice in 26 days. I haven’t seen his face in longer than that.

Sure, I get emails and instant messaging, but I’m jealous of the video chats the other wives are able to have with their husbands, some almost nightly. I’m angry that my kids don’t get to hear their daddy’s voice and the other kids get to Skype with their daddies at least once a week. I miss my husband. My kids miss their daddy. I’m lonely. Every day I see posts from no less than three friends regarding contact with their spouses. Pictures of their kids reading books with daddy over Skype. Phone calls, text messages, Skype. Some freak out when they don’t get their almost daily phone calls while I haven’t heard my husband’s voice in a month.

Little Brother “reading” Dr Seuss books to ‘Daddy Bear’ this evening.

I want to imagine what I’m feeling in normal for the process, but I fear that it’s not. It’s not fair. Nothing is fair about love or war. Because of war I am without love, where is the fairness in that? Where is the fairness that my kids are without the comfort of their father, the strength of his arms when they fall? There is no fairness in love. There is no fairness in war. Some soldiers wont come home. How many have died already just in the month that my husband has been gone? Too many.

Instead of reading with their dad, my kids read to “Daddy Bear”. Instead of telling daddy “Good night”, they whisper ‘I will miss you’ to a doll. Instead of hugs and kisses, they are met with the lifeless form of an oversize Teddy Bear wearing their father’s uniform blouse. And it’s not fair.

 

**I want it understood. I support our troops. I understand and support their mission. I know that every situation is different and there are reasons that some families get contact more than others. That does not negate the fact that sometimes I just need my husbands arms around me, sometimes I just need his voice and that my children deserve their daddy.**

Advertisements

One thought on “All is fair in love and war

  1. lexiesnana says:

    I so feel the pain in this piece and my heart goes out to you.My daughter leaves on deployment in December and I hope we don’t go through that.Blessings

What are your thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s