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I’m not quite sure how to start this post. I have so many words flooding through my mind. These words are washing over me in waves, but I can’t figure out how to get them to come out in a distinguishable way. Lately, I’ve been “passing through the waters,” so to speak. Yet, I feel like I have no good reason to be.
I feel like I talk about this all the time. I feel like I mention my weight struggle about every ten posts. I can’t help it. Well, I guess I can. It seems as though it’s something that Satan uses to eat away at my conscience, because he knows it’s one area where I’m vulnerable. I’ve always had trouble with weight gain and have always had an even more difficult time with feeling confident in the body God gave me.
One thing a spouse going into a military marriage has to be prepared for is the effect (of the job) that carries into the night. I don’t exactly know how well my husband slept before I knew him, but I only know the man whose sleeping habits have been affected by a deployment to Iraq, a deployment to Africa, and intensive training.
Evan is an extremely heavy sleeper and does not wake up easily. He talks a lot in his sleep, and I’ve woken up to him wide-eyed and talking but still asleep. Many nights I’ve woken to him shouting orders, yelling about mortars or gunfire, or yelling at people to put their heads down. Most of these nights he’ll be sitting up, eyes wide open, and arms either flailing or “holding” a rifle. I can’t adequately describe the cold, steely look in his eyes.
During those times, I try to not touch him, for fear of startling him. Instead, I calm him with my voice and coax him to lie back down. Once he’s calm, I embrace him tightly and wonder what demons he’s fighting that night.
It’s after 1:15 in the morning, and all I can do is lie here, thinking about Evan. Thoughts like, “I wonder what he’s doing.” and “Is he okay?” keep roaming through my mind. Sometimes I envy our little baby, Ian. He sleeps soundly, oblivious to the reality that the daddy he sees through pictures and videos isn’t physically around. He gets to traipse off into a surrealism that I can’t reach, because I know the truth–Evan isn’t here and won’t be for a long time. I’ll admit that I’ve spent the last hour crying on and off. This isn’t the first tear-filled night, nor will it be the last. I’m not worried about Evan’s safety; I know that God is watching over him. What gets to me is the loneliness that deployment brings. I enviously watch happy couples cuddle and laugh. But, when I start falling into a pity party, I remind myself of who I am . . . a Marine wife! I get to proudly say that my husband serves our country. Yes, I cry because I miss him (which is a good thing, because it shows I love him), but I also get to smile because I’m proud of what he’s doing.
Tonight through my tears and prayers, I asked God to help me. He did so by drowning out my lonely thoughts with memories of this entire last year. What a crazy year it’s been! Going into the military life was quite the adjustment for me. I’d have to sum it up with the descriptions of exciting, scary, difficult, and even funny. One of the funniest moments that sticks out to me is a time we went to the Naval Hospital. I was about 12 weeks pregnant and going in for one of my appointments. Evan and I were chatting and walking as closely as we could without holding hands. He was wearing his camis, and holding hands isn’t permitted in camis (no, not even with your spouse). As usual, I was yammering on about who-knows-what when taps started playing and the National Anthem came blaring out of loud speakers. I just kept talking and walking, looking strangely at all the poeple who were suddenly stopping. I thought to myself, “Boy, people on military bases sure are strange.” Then it occurred to me that Evan was being awfully quiet. I looked to my left to find him gone. I looked behind me, and there he was, several feet back, standing in a perfectly straight form (at attention). He simply muttered from the side of his mouth, “Stop walking.” Confused, I raised an eyebrow but did as I was told. I looked at his face, but he wasn’t looking at me. I followed the direction of his eyes to see that he was watching the raising of the American flag. Realization set in as the final chords of the Marine Corps hymn sounded out, and I felt warm redness creep up my cheeks. This was yet another new military rule that I needed to get used to. The moment taps starts playing, everyone stops. It doesn’t matter if you’re late, if you’re sick, or even if you’re about to pee your pants; you stop and wait for that flag to go up. Even if you’re in your car, you stop. More than once will you see traffic come to a complete halt, for that very reason. Although it can be a nuisance and could result in wet pants, I think it’s awesome that Old Glory still has the respect that it should. Now, when I hear taps playing, I make sure I stop talking and walking (whether I can see the flag or not). It didn’t take long for me to realize that I was actually the idiot of whom everyone else was probably thinking, “Oh look, another newbie.”