Floods

"Say what you will, but you’re never prepared for the surprise attack."
— Sarah Dessen

He's not at war. He's driving humvees near riverbanks. He's checking IDs at entrances to tiny towns. He's watching sandbags stacked high, stepping through deep puddles in wet boots, getting up early and going to bed late. He's sleeping in a tent only a few hours from home. He's doing exactly what the National Guard is supposed to do.

With all that, with being grateful for just that, I still cannot pretend that it is easy not having him here. I miss him. And yet, there is some reassurance in missing him. Yes, you remember how to do this. Yes, you can get that feeling back.


When he got the phone call earlier this week, we were in the living room. He was lost in a video game, and I was happily typing away on my laptop. We had just put Millie in her crib and closed her door. It was a lazy night, and then, on the turn of a dime, he was pulling uniforms from the closet and stuffing his backpack full.

"Wait," I wanted to tell him, "we need to have a few day's notice. We need to spend more time together first." Instead, we went to bed, and when he was leaving early that next morning, I saw a silhouette of a soldier bend down and kiss me.

I think he gets as much comfort telling me where he is as I do in knowing.



P.S. A huge congratulations to Katie at Ben and Katie for winning the Best Milspouse Blog Award 2011! If anyone deserves it, it's this girl. Go read their courageous love story, and you'll see what I mean. And another huge thank you to everyone who nominated and voted for me- I am so honored to count you all as friends.