Dreams and tears.

[navygreen]

I was sleeping. It was mid-afternoon, and I snuggled down for a nap before time to pick up A.J. from school. At 3:05, the alarm went off. I got up, stumbled out of my room and into the entryway. Philip was helping Jack put on his shoes, and he was saying, "C'mon, Jack. Get your shoes on because we've all gotta go and pick up A.J."

At this moment, I realized that, *duh* - Philip was home. HE could go pick up A.J. by himself. I didn't NEED to go with him to do so. I told him these things, and then said that I was going to crawl back in bed for another hour or so of my nap. And I did. And Philip and Jack picked A.J. up from school, and I was left to snuggle in my dreams for a bit more.

...

^ That was my dream yesterday afternoon while I actually *was* napping before picking A.J. up from school. I laid down at 2pm, and I had the alarm set for 3:05. I snoozed it at 3:05, and then I woke up again at 3:14. When I woke up for REAL, I was hit with the hard realization that Philip really, really wasn't home. He really, really couldn't go pick up A.J. for me.

And it had all felt so real. So very real. I was crushed. Why are dreams so cruel? I felt the tears sting in my eyes, but I told myself there wasn't time to cry right then - A.J. needed to be picked up, and even with my clock set 5 minutes fast, we were still going to be about 5 minutes late. (Though we actually got there just as A.J. was finally mosey-ing out of the school - so no harm done, then.)

---

I've come so close to tears so many times this week, and they've all been relatively small things, so I haven't really let myself cry over them. The first time was spilling my drink all over the driveway last Friday night. The second time was two afternoons ago, when we were driving back home from running an errand. On the side of the road, I saw an older couple out for a walk, and they were holding hands. At the same moment I found myself saying, "Awww," I was also struck by a heartbreaking desire to BE them. To BE on a walk with my husband, and to BE holding his hand. I wanted to be doing that, and I came to tears when I had to tell myself that I couldn't "right now."

And then this dream yesterday afternoon. It hurts, you know - to be separated like this. We're only closing in on the 4-month mark, so there's still quite a bit of time left that Philip will be gone. The rote answer, of course, is to always say, "We're fine, really," whenever people ask, and it's partly true, partly not. We *are* fine. Life still goes on here, and we're not holding our breaths waiting for anything. But we're also living around a big hole - the absence of daddy and husband. And no matter how many times I shrug it off, the reality is that it keeps coming back.

Comments

[livemockingbird.livejournal.com]

I won't bother with a pat *hug* or try to assure you that I know how you're feeling, because, really I can't. I often think about how you deal with all of this. I try to imagine being away from Nate for more than a day or two and it breaks my heart. Almost every day I think about how strong you are--and how you're doing something I never could. I continue to think that--but often, you don't share this side of your experience.

Thank you for letting us know what you are feeling.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

I try so hard not to let on most times, but every once in a while, I break down. And when I do, this is where I do it.

Thanks for being there, Meri.

[taryns-mom.livejournal.com]

Oh Nicole... I'm so sorry for what you're going through. *teary eyes* When Ben PSCed out here and left the rest of us in IL for a year, I remember going through similar things even though it wasn't nearly as traumatic as a real deployment. For months I couldn't open the closet in our bedroom without bursting into tears. It felt illogical and ridiculous. And I felt real shame at feeling so emotional when he was "just" on the East Coast. A very wise soul told me that was I was feeling was very appropriate and natural given the circumstances. She also said that in many ways, it was a "death" of sorts. The death of how we defined normalcy. Intense as the word death is, it made sense at the time.

Fast forward to our current life -- you're comment "living around a big hole" really, truly struck a nerve with me and my heart aches for you. It's how I feel when I think of Taryn not being here with us.

While our situations are not the same or identical, I do identify with so much of what you wrote. My heart hurts for you. This is a hard situation to live with. Period. Be good to yourself. If you need to cry... go ahead and cry. It's not silly for you to cry. It means you love your husband and miss him. And the reality sucks - end of story.

Just know that there are people who love you and although no one can make it better, so to speak... you are thought of, loved, and held in many hearts.

**big hugs**

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

Oh, Tina. *hugs*

This is one of the times where I wish I'd thought a little bit more before I started complaining. I have no right here - none, next to what you've been through. Still, you always manage to lift me up, and I don't know where you pull all of your strength from exactly, but I am so thankful that you have it and you choose to share it with me.

[taryns-mom.livejournal.com]

I wish I'd thought a little bit more before I started complaining. I have no right here - none, next to what you've been through

Oh nooo nooo nooo.... you have EVERY right in the world to complain, cry, vent, bitch, moan, and then some! It's not about what's harder for whom or what's worse... the very real thing is that sometimes, life is just plain hard! And your reality is completely valid in its hardness (Freudian slip, unintentional!). I don't feel strong at all, Nicole... I get any strength I have from my friends... friends like you *wiping tears* I think you're the strong one, not me.

How about this -- we'll hand each other tissues and hugs, ok? :-) Please, please, please don't feel you shouldn't complain, ok? *BIG HUGS*

[bigbrain61.livejournal.com]

You're doing the best that you can in a tough situation. That is all anyone can ask. That is all Philip can ask of you, that is all that the kids can ask of you (well, I don't know if that's what they'd ask, it might have to do something about beans, especially knowing Jack, but you know what I mean).

I think it's easy to feel really down when things just aren't bouncing your way consitantly. Look at all of those depressing posts I've made of late. Isn't it pathetic? But that's how you feel, and no one can blame you so long as you try your best.

*hug* Chin up, dear, you're doing fine. You'll all be okay.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Bri. A comment from you always helps to bring me out of the 'frump.' I love ya!

[hetterrific.livejournal.com]

Trust me, I don't know *exactly* how you feel, but I know pretty darn close to it. It's funny how you can be "okay" but really not. I remember not ever wanting to go to sleep because I would irrationally think that it would make time go by faster. Or wanting to sleep all the time for the same reason. Or going out and having a really good time with you and feeling like shit (pardon the word choice, but it was the strongest word I could think of to get my point across) when I got home because I would feel so absolutely alone. My weekly calls became almost torture because I knew when htey were done, it would be another week before I could talk to him again. I almost got to the point where I didn't *want* to talk to him because it would just remind me that he wasn't here. I could put him out of my mind and try to go on with things and then he'd call and it would bring back the fact that he wasn't here.

It was hardest when I would see you and P together because I wanted to have those times with my husband. All the holidays that I should have been celebrating with him, but instead celebrated "alone" with you. Some days it was too hard to even do anything with your family at all.

Honestly, from month 4- midtour were absolutely my worst months (which equates to 2.5 months). And that is the period you are getting into. But I think the kind of "lucky" thing for you is that they are summer months. Not nearly as much dark.

I could go on and on about how I felt, but it doesn't help the fact that you are going through it now. If you need to talk, you know how to get me.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

*tears*

We'll talk more later... no, wait - we did!

[melissa72.livejournal.com]

I have to tell you that I think you're handling him being away amazingly. You always sound so incredibly strong, so in charge of the situation. Yes, I understand that that may be a front at times, but you do come across as very strong, and I hope you find additional strength in knowing that.

I cannot even begin to imagine what you're going through. I wish there was something that I, or anyone, could say that would make your situation better, but clearly, it's something that only time and him coming home will truly fix. Just know that you have many people thinking about you while he's away, praying for you and for him.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

Thank you for your words. Yes, sometimes it *is* a front - it has to be, if for no one else but the boys, you know? But every once in a while, I still crumble, and when I do, this is where it happens.

I appreciate your prayers more than you can know.

[scarletharlot52.livejournal.com]

I do not know what to say, so I will just send that pat *hug* and an extra one too. *hug* Hang in there, girlie.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

I know you're always there, chick.

[prairie-chica.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry. :(

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

I know, and I'm glad you're there.

[chelelev.livejournal.com]

What you are doing/going through is so normal. Did they do a pre-deployment briefing with you before he left? If they did, go back and reread what you will be feeling. It is very similar to the stages of death that people go through. While you *knew* that Phillip was gone, maybe emotionally you were in denial (and not camping by the river) that he was truly gone.

My first Navy deployment, I was a basket case and then got involved in things and the time did go quickly. BUT, it wasn't in a time of war. On the other hand, the only communication was by letter and the occassional over-priced phone call when they hit a port. Each deployment after got easier for me. There was a big hole but my life eventually filled it with other superficial things until Mark was back.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

I will look through all the stuff - I've got a big folder here from the Red Cross.

While I know that this deployment has already gone so much faster than the last one, I - unfortunately - just realized something yesterday: when Philip went to Saudi Arabia in 2001, he was gone a little over 3.5 months. Though it seemed like a long time then and that the days passed slowly, it wasn't and they really didn't. He's been gone almost exactly as long now, but it's knowing that he's nowhere near done that's making this one so much harder, I guess.

[angelrose.livejournal.com]

I cannot relate in any way to what your going through so I wont' even try. Instead I just want to offer my support and prayers for you both.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

Thank you for both.

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

Well, the phone works both ways, and I know you're there, too. We'll get it one day - I know we will. Thank you for always being there, Catherine.

[prosodic.livejournal.com]

It's people like you who help me get through Lance's short deployments. Because I hate him being gone for only a week or two, but then I think about you going without Philip for much longer than that, raising two kids by yourself, and it makes me think that if you can handle that, then I can certainly handle my husband being absent for a couple of weeks. I have no right to complain or feel sorry for myself.

Without knowing that you do it, you help to give me strength. Thank you for that, Nicole.

*HUG*

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

I have no right, either. I mean, I've got people on my own friends' list that have suffered more, that have been separated longer - I have no right. I think that's part of the irrationality of it all, and it's that mindset that makes it hard for me to let myself go when I need to.

Thank you, Karyn. You lifted me up with your words, and I thank you for that.

*hugs back*

[mrs-picasso.livejournal.com]

(((hugs)))

[thespis-mellie.livejournal.com]

My friend Liz, who died in 2003, pops up in my dreams about once every few months. Sometimes, in my dreams, I don't know she's died, and we're just hanging out at Denny's or working in the theatre. Sometimes I know she's dead -- I have had a couple very violent dreams where I wasn't sure if I was dead or alive and then I talk to her and work out that I must be dead if I'm talking to her.

When Mike and I were apart (obviously not for as long as you and Phillip, nor were the circumstances as stressful -- though he does work at a mental hospital), I would dream about him about once a fortnight. And then you wake up and reality smacks you in the face.

It's so hard. He'll be home soon, I'm sure.

*hugs*

[my-kittykitty.livejournal.com]

You are one of the strongest women I know! How in the world do you do it?
I would be in a straight jacket by now!FOR REAL!
I admire you...I have tears for you!
I know everything will turn out great in the end...and you will be holding hands watching your Grandkids grow!
Continue to be the strong woman that you are, and if you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm here!( along with many more as I've seen from your comments!) You're not alone!!:)
***hugs!!***

[navygreen.livejournal.com]

I just got this comment out of nowhere on a post that's over 2 months old now, and I was surprised. Thank you for your kind words, chick. It brought tears to my eyes to reread it, but I am proud of how well we've pulled through another 2 months more since I posted it. *hug*

[my-kittykitty.livejournal.com]

I wasn't on your friends list at the time, and a post you made today, said to refer to it, in regards to your post.
I read them and had tears myself. **hugs!**