We're in the army now.

Whenever my husband tells someone that he's joined the Army National Guard, everyone instantly looks at me and asks how I feel about it. When he was first talking about it, I was not a fan. Scared the hell out of me, to be honest and frank. But, he needed something. He works for a delivery company that couldn't care less about us and that he's hit the ceiling of progress at. (Of course, if he were related to someone... I hate the way Utah works. You have to be related to someone to get a good job.) They treat him like crap and facing a reality where this could really be "it" for us sucked. He was getting so hollow. So, I decided to re-think why I didn't want him to join the military. And I could only pin it on one culprit: fear, my companion since childhood that I'd begun to loathe. Was that what I really wanted to base my decisions on, a fear? Fear of what? The military couldn't mess him up -- if he hadn't been messed up witnessing death the ways he'd already seen it (saw a friend shot point-blank and saw his girlfriend kill herself by running head-on into a train then helped her brother and the paramedics pick up the pieces) he wouldn't get messed up from anything. (Seriously, he's better adjusted than I am.) It was selfish fear: being alone, being left a widow with or without kids, waiting for him to die all the time. I didn't want to narrow his life because I was scared. He's only got the one. How could I hold him back? Since he's joined, his confidence has grown so much. Someone else finally saw his potential. Someone finally treats him like the awesome person I know he is. And he is excelling more and more. Besides, like death could keep us apart.
He'll be leaving for 20 weeks starting September 2nd (Basic and AIT). I've actually never lived alone before. I can't even remember what it's like not to be with him. This weekend we met a guy from the company my husband will be with. He just got back from Iraq 2 months ago (he volunteered to go, like many of the Guard's soldiers over there). He showed us his weapons and gear and pictures... I guess it became more real for me. I still stand by my decision, but I just realize how strong I'm not and how strong I'll have to be. It's gonna be awesome, you guys. Really hard. Not as hard as whenever he deploys, but no worries I've been playing that one over in my head since he told me he'd wanted to be a soldier since he was little.
Whatever it takes I'll let it take. It can rip my world apart but it can't rip us apart. No matter what people keep telling me about how many soldiers cheat and wives cheat or how much they both change and realize they're not in love anymore. We gave up everything to be together. We had nothing when we got engaged. We bought a love seat that was sitting in someone's yard for $10 and that was what we had. We both lost our jobs a month before we got married. Believe me, we can take this on. I've never known love like this before. I haven't even seen love like this.
So, I'll need you guys. Whoever even reads this. Because I'll need somewhere to go to just say whatever I need to say and remember whatever I need to remember. During those twenty weeks and whenever he goes to fight. I'm not so naive that I'll say it won't happen. It will.
So, thanks.

More About My Boy

I was 16 years old when a friend of mine asked if I wanted to go catch the movie Patch Adams with a group of people. I agreed to go and later that day he picked me up in a mammoth of a van. He opened the side sliding door for me and there was some guy spinning around in one of the captain's seats inside. He stopped at once, looking at me in surprise. I got in the van and sat in the other captain's seat and told him my name. "I know," he replied mysteriously. I really liked him, but another girl in the group obviously was interested in him and wanted him to know it. So, I backed off. I only saw him a few times that year. But, during the summer, he and I both showed up to a little festival the tiny town we lived in was holding. We talked and talked. We had a lot in common and he was so charming. I noticed how handsome he was. His light brown hair curled playfully around his forehead; his eyes that I had assumed brown, were, in reality, a rich amber-gold rimmed with a mist of green. His smile was so genuine. I bought him lunch and later gave him a ride home. As I turned the key and reached for the steering wheel, I realized just how hot the day had been. I tried to turn the car around by searing only my fingertips against the wheel. I looked down to see a masculine hand grasp the wheel and hold it for me, bearing the burn with a grin. I blushed slightly and thanked him for being thoughtful. I wasn't used to guys caring like that. He invited me out to a comedy club that night, but I had promised to be a youth supervisor for the city 's youth dance that night. I told him I would like to do something sometime, though. I figured I'd blown it. I got to the dance that night a little disappointed that I couldn't have gone out with him. To my surprise, I was suddenly seized around the waist and lifted into the air in a whirl and planted back where I’d been standing within seconds. I dizzily looked around to find out who would possibly hug me with such excitement. To my astonishment, it was that same nice guy from that afternoon. He asked me if I'd go for a walk with him, so we left the tennis courts the dance was held in and walked around the park. We sat down on a picnic table. He was telling me about some girl he really liked. I tried to hide how annoyed I was to be the confidante. He went on, "She's smart and beautiful and funny... and she's sitting next to me on a picnic table." I can't believe it, but I actually looked down at the picnic table and thought, "That's me!" (He indulged a little with "smart.") And that kind of started everything. We dated until I got scared and broke up with him. We dated again later until he got scared and broke up with me (like 3 or 4 times, actually). But, we couldn't stay apart.
Later on, we found out that we'd been following each other around most of our lives. We were both born in Northern California and our families moved to Utah within a few years of each other to the same city. We attended the same preschool at the same time, he being just a year ahead of me. Around junior high our families each moved, mine to a small town south of where we were, his north to a bigger city . While he lived there, he shoveled snow for and frequently checked in on my great grandmother. (He actually knew her better than I did.) He later moved to the small town I was living in where he soon changed the way I looked at everything. And he's made me so happy. E.E. Cummings put it best, "[He] opened the eyes of my eyes." I hadn't believed in marriage or love - couples weren't happy, families weren't happy. I was going to be a big business executive in New York, wearing tasteful suits and being alone and happy that way. Well, he stepped on that dream. Now I can't remember what it's like not to be with him. He's amazing. Touching him is like reaching into another world. He has a magnitude and a power I've never seen before and will never see again. I can't believe God gave him to me. I am the luckiest.

A Little Backstory

Well, what can I say? I'm just a somebody like anybody else. I grew up in a somewhat dysfunctional family (are we grading on a curve?) and led a bit of a quirky childhood. I actually got a complex because I didn't collect anything, so from that point on I collected everything (seriously: bouncy balls, rubber snakes, erasers, rocks...). I had an awkward phase like most - though people do seem to laugh at my pictures a little too hard. I grew up, screwed up in my own way, and found my sweetheart when I was 16. One helluva roller coaster ride later, we got married and now I'm poor, 26, and STILL in college. Yup, that's right folks. I just love sitting around all the 18-year-olds on campus talking about how old 22 is. A few years ago, my honey and I found our kitty in an extremely thorny hedge and spent hours rescuing a little gray puff bleeding from the eye. And sweet Moses did the thing have lungs on it! Now the puff is a tub and very dependent on me for his little existence, including his need for head-scratchin's at all hours. So, that's my little family, just the three of us. We read together, watch TV together, and well, we're going through hell (aka life) together. Once in a while I just feel like writing something -- because for me writing is a little like bleeding. It can hurt a lot and be difficult and messy while it's happening, but when it's over it's over and all those feelings are gone now and I can heal. Not that this will be a depressing blog with black edges. But, even happy can wear you out. I'm just trying to discover what I'm learning from life as I live it. So, for those of you who are listening, thank you and enjoy.