WEDNESDAY IS LOVE LETTER DAY!!

It's Wednesday again. I haven't had much time to devote to writing my sweet Clem because of school and kids and stuff. But I figured being that today's SUPPOSED to be my love letter day to him, I'd update this here blog just for him on Wednesdays instead.

All was pretty quiet until Monday. I "babysat" Leighann since she had been set apart Sunday evening, so she was officially a missionary. I don't think I really saw her much on Monday even though we were in the same house and doing very similar things. Eventually, 1700 rolled around and Mom was home. I was relieved of my babysitting duties and was dismissed. I was really sad to come home, though. I was sad to see Leighann one last time, too. Don't ever tell her I said that. (Like she can't read it now.) But I know she, like my sweet Clem, is doing a really great thing. By the way, that's Leighann loving on Alyssa before she was set apart.

I had that emotional band-aid on for the last month, and now I had to come home and rip it off-permanently-so my wound could heal. Sure, it had occasionally been loosened while I was at Mom and Dad's, but it was easily replaced while I was there. It's kind of hard to avoid at first. I had to come home and face all the reminders of my Sweet Dewey, like his cup he left sitting beside the sink before we left that horrible morning, and his shampoo still in my shower with his washcloth. And my bed sheets. I ripped them off the bed after we got up that morning (I still remember how it felt to wake up with him one last time for several months). The sheets smelled like him so I was going to throw them in the washer while he was still home, and then have Tracy put them in the dryer when she came over later that day. Then I realized they still smelled like him, so I couldn't bring myself to wash him out of them yet. I threw them back on the bed and decided I'd deal with it when I got home. Even with all of that on Monday, I put my big-girl-panties on and did what I had to do. My return turned out not to be quite as bad as I had expected. Dana agreed to come have a sleepover with me since she'd be up early the next morning to watch my kids anyway. We slept on the couches. I ended up washing the sheets when I got back home without smelling them because they'd still smell like Dewey. I love his smell, but I couldn't bring myself to sleep in my bed yet. The last time I'd slept in it was with him, and I wanted to cherish that a little longer, I suppose. Or I'm just a big wiener. I'm going with the latter....maybe a little of both. Monday evening was a little hard. I thought I heard Dewey in the kitchen, but then I remembered he wasn't here. I guess I had sort of convinced myself that he was really here waiting for me to come back home, that it was all a really horrible joke. It wasn't. He was really still gone, and I still missed him terribly. But having Dana here helped. It eased the transition a wee bit. Coming into the man cave, Dewey's special room, was hardest. I expected to see him playing Word Whomp. It got easier, though. I'm sitting here now doing this in the man cave. (When you read man cave, it should be said with an echo for emphasis) Last night was my first night alone in the house without Dewey. No Dana, either. At first, that burning feeling in my chest and the nausea were almost unbearable. It's still there, just not as overwhelming. I can't let the kids see how completely devastating it is for me. What will that teach them? They know it's ok for them to cry and be sad, but I refuse to let them see me go through it. Someone has to be brave for them. I don't know how many times I've already held Kaylan and let her cry. She's a very sensitive little girl, very aware of other's feelings, too. During the day it isn't so bad because it's like he's at work. But nighttime's the worst....well, for obvious reasons. I don't sleep well without him, even when he's only on duty and will be home at 0900 the next day. Last night I made myself sleep in my own bed. I can't sleep on the couch for the next 14 months! I suppose I could, I'd just really rather not. I paid enough for my big, fat, yummy king-sized bed. Besides, it's kind of like he's there, too. Even with clean sheets I can still smell him. I hope it lasts. It's almost comforting, actually.

I know most people think 1 of 2 things about me: A) I put on a tough front just so everyone has that impression of me so they will be intimidated or B) I'm really this superwoman kind of person. Perhaps it's a combination, without the intentional intimidation. I don't like to make myself vulnerable like some people. I prefer to keep things inside, RIGHT WHERE THEY BELONG! I assure you, I don't try to be tough merely to leave that impression on anyone. I'd rather not run around blabbering to anyone who'll listen about my woes or the stories of my childhood or whatever. For me personally, crying is the ultimate form of weakness and is absolutely humiliating. So you won't catch me crying in church or at weddings or while watching pansy, mushy chick-flicks or because they made a Hoover commercial a little more sentimental than a vacuum advertisement ought to be. As for B, I'm simply human and do what I must in order to survive. I really can't stand it when anyone says this "Oh, I don't know how you manage. I know I couldn't. It's just such a long time and so difficult. I would be so devastated! I don't know if I could make it. How do you do it?" DUH!! Of course it's devastating!! I suppose this is actually supposed to be a compliment (?), but it really irritates me. I guess I go from day to day, week to week, month to month. I get up in the morning and put one foot in front of the other and get on with my day. If you're really interested in how I do it, or any military spouse does it, rephrase the question. A wicked great lady at church (you know who you are, Jessica) got it right at the 4th of July breakfast. We were talking briefly and she simply asked "Are you ok? Because I know I wouldn't be." Simple and to the point and my band-aid remained in place. I guess I don't like the rambling because it's SLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWLY and so painfully ripping off my band-aid. To answer the question, yes, I'm fine, and I'll make it through one more separation. And I'll make it the next time I have to. And the next time. The last 4 days before Dewey left all I could say is I couldn't do it. I still have my moments where I feel like all hope is lost, but deep down somewhere I know it isn't. I also know that every other time I'm asked (HA HA, more like TOLD) I'll rise to the challenge. It's hard everytime he leaves, but the time passes eventually and he comes home just in time for someone's birthday or some holiday. That day is better than Christmas and Schlitterbahn combined. There aren't words to describe how perfectly awesome that day is. "This, too, shall pass." (Does anyone want to cross stitch that for me??) That's my motto whenever he's gone. It's usually the first thing I think when I wake up. (When he's home it's normally "*&$%^*&^#%*&$*#$!!!") Then I wonder what he's doing and when I'll hear from him next. I'm trying to improve my relationship with my babies with this deployment. What better time than when it's just us? There ARE some advantages to his absence, not many, but a few.

I have a wonderful relationship with Dewey. He's the most special person (outside of my kids) to me. I live for him. I watched "The Notebook" while he was in Korea, and I thought “I want a relationship like that with him.” (Just for the record, I didn't cry and it wasn't my idea to watch it...LEIGHANN.) I thought it was a good movie only because their love was almost perfect. (Notice I said it was good, not great, not I went out and bought it, not I watch it every chance I get. In fact, I've only seen it that one time.) I want to be those parents that embarrass their kids because they can't keep their hands off each other. I want my kids' friends to think Dewey and I are wierd because we're still married and actually like each other. I love Dewey with all my heart and I’ll wait for him no matter how long it takes. I want my kids to learn that one thing from me, even if they learn nothing else. I want a profound love story with Dewey that will inspire my girls to settle for nothing less in their own lives.