I’ve discussed how Clay missed so much during his year-long deployment. It is a fact of our life and one that we don’t gloss over. It is what it is and a sacrifice that many other military families make – we certainly are not alone. There was always the worry in the back of my mind that reintegration would be difficult; that Weston and Clay would need time to get to know each other; to become father and son. Those of you who were reading when Clay came home for R&R almost 10 months after leaving, know how my fears were laid to rest the minute we saw him running down the terminal…
Despite Clay missing so much, Weston behaved as if his daddy hadn’t been away fighting a war for the past 10 months. And when Clay came home for good a little over two months later, we fell right back into our little family of three, with few hiccups.
This is a typical scene around bedtime in our house. We dance, jump and down, pretend to eat feet, and laugh until we’re tired. I just had to capture it last night, to remember his age, his spirit, and his love for the two of us. And it was then I realized that despite our family being apart for twelve months last year, I think we’re going to be just fine.
Albert Einstein wisely said that there are only two ways to live our life – “One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
I chose to live as though everything is a miracle.
One of my favorite Christian hymns is Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. The lyrics were penned in the 18th century by Robert Robinson and are traditionally set to the American folk tune Nettleton, which was composed by John Wyeth. Christian and mainstream artists have covered the hymn and sang it live during concerts, including one of my favorite bands, Mumford & Sons.
Come Thou Fount of every blessing Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise Teach me some melodious sonnet, Sung by flaming tongues above. Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it, Mount of God’s unchanging love.
There are times I wonder how I’ve ended up to be where I am. Falling in love with a boy in the military has led me in a direction I never imaged as a teenager dreaming of the big city and bright lights. Falling in love with a boy in the military during a time of two wars has tested my faith, taught me true courage and bravery, and helped demonstrate how every moment is a blessing.
I actually got to thinking about how the military has impacted my life after reading a blog post by my sister-in-law, whose husband is currently deployed to Afghanistan. Now that Clay is home, it is somewhat easy to forget how I felt during the deployments. But there are times when I am reminded. I am afraid that I have never adequately put the mixture of fear, loneliness, and perseverance that is a deployment into words. And I am not sure if I can.
Clay’s first deployment was dangerous. As was his second one, but not to the degree of the first. During those 16 months, I woke up every single day, wondering if he was alive at that moment. And I would get out of bed determined to go about my day with grace, composure, and fearlessness. Regardless of the fear, loneliness, and longing. Weeks upon weeks would go without contact. I received notification phone calls and attended too many memorial services. It was during these times that I truly learned what the phrase, Let go and let God meant.
I’m afraid that now I am not always going about my day with the grace, composure, and fearlessness as I do during deployments. It is easy to get caught up in the chaos of everyday life but I must try harder to focus on every blessing. All too much we’re consumed by the unimportant things in life. Too little focus is paid to what really matters. And we fail to recognize all of our little blessings.
Oklahoma and I may be getting off to a rough start, but maybe the wide open plains and stark landscape are meant to give me the means to evaluate my life and ensure that I am doing more than just existing. And count my blessings.
The little guy and I are going to the airport this afternoon to pick up Clay. He has been TDY the past week so it was yet another solo parenting adventure. But he will be home today – just in time for Memorial Day weekend. Whenever Clay is away, I can’t help but think of last year. He was deployed pretty much all of 2010. He left a wife and newborn on the homefront. It wasn’t easy on him. And it wasn’t easy on me.
But we did just fine. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. After all, we had been through a 16-month deployment before, how hard could a year be? Hard. I underestimated the hardship of raising a baby alone. And doing so while worried about a husband fighting in a war 6000 miles from home. That being said, 2010 was filled with many special moments. They were bittersweet though, because Clay was unable to share them with us. He missed so much.
Clay left when Weston was 10 days old.
He came back home almost a month later.
And then deployed when the little guy was 2 months old.
Clay came home for R&R in October, just in time for Weston's 1st birthday.
And then came home 'for good' when Weston was almost 15 months old.
He missed so much.
Clay has been home for 5 months now and I keep forgetting how much he missed.
Like the first laugh.
The first taste of peas.
The first attempt at crawling.
And the first steps.
He missed so much.
It was for a reason greater than ourselves.
But that doesn’t make him missing the first year any easier.
I look back and I am amazed that I did it. We did it. The first year of a child’s life is such a spectacular time. And it can be a trying time, filled with many learning experiences. Going at it alone with a husband at war was difficult. But I did it. We did it. And while Clay missed so much, he came home. We have had many opportunities to create memories as a family. Others haven’t been as lucky. He missed so much, but we are truly blessed. And it can be easy to lose sight of that sometimes.
This Memorial Day weekend I am thinking of those who didn’t have the homecoming, those who gave all, and those who should never be forgotten. Take a moment this weekend and think of those who are the purpose of this holiday. I know I am.
