Jake has been gone for two weeks. We’ve spoken on the phone once and email each other daily. Being a military wife sucks during this time. I spend so much time holding it together for him. He’s working in a combat zone. It’s dangerous, and the last thing he needs is for me to be a blubbering idiot. I would think each deployment gets easier, but it’s the exact opposite. I’m so thankful this is the last one.
There are many sacrifices that come with being a milspouse. It’s not just about the deployments. There are many things we have be okay with, like him missing my birthday and anniversary and any other special occasion we share. Uprooting our life and moving all over the place every time he has to change bases… And with every base change, we lose all our friends and have to make new ones. To think I was upset when my mom made me move to a new school in seventh grade… It was so much easier then to make friends and one hundred times harder as an adult. Luckily, we have been at Andrews AFB for five years, and it will be our last base.
Death and tragedy surrounds us everywhere. If it doesn’t happen to me, it happens to one of my friends. Service members are faced with dangers every day, not only when they are deployed but also when they are working at their home base.
Just a couple of years ago, our friend’s husband, a fighter pilot, was on maneuvers and his plane malfunctioned. It began to nose-dive, and he had to eject from the plane. He survived, but he came close to not making it. Anything can happen to anyone at any given time, but when we live the military life, those odds are much greater.
We have to be okay talking about this stuff and choosing happiness in the midst of all the chaos. Finding the positive can be hard, but it’s something we must do, for ourselves and our spouse.
I’ve been keeping myself busy in Jake’s absence. My publisher seems to crack the whip more when he is deployed. My writing career has really blossomed, and I am so blessed to have an amazing marketing team behind me, promoting my novels. One of these days, I intend to write about the experiences Jake and I have gone through. Who knows, some may find it entertaining but others will probably be bored with it. I learned early on, I can’t please every reader and some people will simply not like what I write. It’s not personal; it’s either subject matter, genre, or my writing style. In any case, it’s not me they dislike. It was a hard lesson to learn when I published those early novels, but through experience I learned to accept the bad reviews and rejoice for the good ones.
I remember when my first bad review came in. Jake was deployed, so it was just me and Jax, and I needed to vent. My precious boy sat there for a good ten minutes while I ranted on and on. When I was done, and he was still sitting there, I couldn’t help but smile.
***
Jake has been gone for eleven months and two weeks. He was right; the time did fly by. I’ve been so anxious for his return that for the past two days, I have done absolutely nothing. Well, I’ve done things, but I haven’t finished anything. I get distracted so easily and can’t seem to keep my mind on anything for too long, which is really hard right now because I have three chapters in my latest work in progress that are due to my editor in two days. I only have one done.
Even though we only have two more weeks, and Jake has been fine all this time, I still can’t shake the fear that I will never see him again. I’ve never had this gut feeling before during other deployments, so it has really kept me on edge. My doctor put me on medicine to help with the anxiety, but frankly, I’m afraid of getting addicted to it, so I never take it. I’m not even sure it is an addictive drug, but I’m not taking the chance. I don’t like the way it makes me feel. I may be a nervous wreck, but at least I know I am a nervous wreck.
I started keeping a letter for Jake, something I never did before. It seems to be the only thing that’s helping me cope with my anxiety. I really don’t say much of anything in my letter, and I doubt I will ever give it to him, but my thoughts about this deployment are all over the place, and it helps to write them down.
I cleaned my house this morning. I played loud music, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, there was no dancing involved. I go into my office to work and find that I am spending more time looking out the window than getting anything done.
I wish Jaxson were here with me, but I had to put him down two months ago. It was heartbreaking. A piece of my soul died with him that day. Going through him being sick to his actual dying was one of the most horrible times of my life. When I left the vet’s office that day, I swore I would never get another dog, only to fall in love with it completely, then to lose it ten years later. Jake says my mind will change down the road, but I don’t know. My heart is still broken and will be broken for a long time.
I decide I need to change my environment. Maybe being in this house all the time is causing these awful fears and my writer’s block. My publisher has a guest office she allows authors to use when they need one. It just has to be reserved. It’s a quiet office housed in the back of their suite, overlooking the Jefferson Memorial and all the cherry blossoms. It’s the perfect setting. I call their office and am glad to hear the room is available. I gather my things and make my way there.
When I get there, I go straight to work, and the change of scenery is perfect. I am writing. The words are coming so easily that before I know it, I’ve been working for six hours. I look back through all I have accomplished and am pleased. My publisher will have their chapters, and I am back on track with this story.
I pack my things, and as I step into the lobby, the receptionist on duty says, “Have a good evening, Jayden.”
“Thanks, Sarah.” I look out the window behind her and notice it is starting to get dark. I yawn. I walk to the elevator and make my way to my car in the parking garage. Once I am settled in, I start the engine and head home, but I can’t stop yawning.
I notice a Starbucks at the next exit. That’s what I need, some good coffee to keep me awake. It’s not a long drive back to base, but there is still residue of rush-hour traffic, and I am tired. I take the exit ramp and head for Starbucks.
There are two cars in front of me in line, but it moves quickly. When it’s my turn, the girl behind the speakers says, “Welcome to Starbucks. What can I get started for you?”
“I’d like a venti salted caramel Frappuccino please.”
“Oh, ma’am, I am so sorry. We can’t do a salted caramel Frappuccino because we don’t have salt.”
I hesitate for second and then say, disappointed, “Oh okay, just give me a second and I will find something else.” I peruse the menu for a minute or two but nothing is jumping out at me.
Before I say anything else, the girl comes back and says, “We do have the salted caramel mocha Frappuccino. Would you like that?” Her words confuse me.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“We do have the salted caramelmochaFrappuccino. Would you like that?” She emphasizes the word mocha, and I can’t believe we are having this conversation. Does she not realize how ridiculous what she is asking me sounds?
I scratch my head, and trying to be as polite as I can, I ask, “Okay, let me make sure I am understanding you. You have the salt for the caramel mocha Frappuccino but not for the caramel Frappuccino?”
Confidently, she replies, “Yes, ma’am, that is correct.”
I quickly realize this girl is not playing with a full deck of cards. “So would it be possible to use the salt for the mocha frappé and put it on the caramel frappé?” Seems like a logical request to me.
Unfortunately for me, she does not follow the same logic as I do. “No, ma’am, I can’t do that. The caramel mocha salt is just for the salted mocha caramel Frappuccino.”
At this point, I have no words for this girl, as nothing she is telling me is making sense. Salt is salt, right? I don’t understand where the break in communication is, but maybe it is me. I’m tired and spent a long day writing. I respond, trying to make this as simple as I can. “Okay, I’ll take a venti salted caramel mocha Frappuccino, but hold the mocha.”
