I know he told not to watch the news. I read it online instead.
Last Friday, President Obama said substantial amount of the 140,000 troops at the warzone will be home by the end of the year.
For most people, they’d be happy. I’d be happy for them.
But what about those who are there at the New Jersey base right now, freezing their butts off on training and getting ready to be deployed in the next three weeks? His promise sounds hopeful for those that have already left. No mention of those who are about to leave.
I stopped the countdown already as it has not helped me in coping up with this stress. Putting “Day 5” seems to be more stressful when you know that you need 395days more before the countdown hits 400.
Unexpectedly, it is not so bad after all.
Yes, it was hard the first week that he was gone. Dealing with the first three days was torture. Dealing with him dealing with his own stresses was quite difficult. This is hard for him too, being the one to go out there, so one has to have a big big heart and a very understanding mind. A snap can’t be taken personally and a cold voice does not necessarily mean that he has changed. The stuff from the army that he sent me broke me to tears. Not being able to call him or text him whenever I want to was an emotional battle. Longing to stay on the phone for a few more minutes was just part of the wish list.
A good cry was all it took to make things better. Leona Lewis and Gina said it correctly—it gets better in time.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Day 5 - January 30, 2009
I just had one thing on my mind the moment i stepped inside the house from work -- i didnt get to blog about my army life day today at work.
That's weird. I must have been so busy at work that I completely forgot about my life as an army wife -- and forgot to blog as I usually do.
I'm watching Family Guy right now. The most dumbest show..so dumb I couldnt really figure it out. But it was Dave's favorite. Not that Im watching it beause it is his favorite. He told me to watch funny and dumb movies and shows just to keep my mind off the stress.
He is right. it does make me forget about the stress.
Combat related stress. Deployment related stress. Wedding planning stress.
Everything is just so stressful.
Deal with it.
That's weird. I must have been so busy at work that I completely forgot about my life as an army wife -- and forgot to blog as I usually do.
I'm watching Family Guy right now. The most dumbest show..so dumb I couldnt really figure it out. But it was Dave's favorite. Not that Im watching it beause it is his favorite. He told me to watch funny and dumb movies and shows just to keep my mind off the stress.
He is right. it does make me forget about the stress.
Combat related stress. Deployment related stress. Wedding planning stress.
Everything is just so stressful.
Deal with it.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Day 4 - January 29, 2009
I feel happy today. I am happy today. Probably because I had a good sleep.
Because I had a ‘happy talk’ with Dave.
Yes, Dave called. Not Marlon. I was happy. I knew it the moment I picked up the phone.
The phone call was short, as expected, but that was perhaps the happiest talk I had with him since he left for base.
Talking with him (or any other guy in his shoe for that matter) requires a lot of patience and understanding. I needed to choose my words and sentences carefully. Deployment-related stress is a big thing, and it would not do us any good if I would add more stress to that. Because he is Mr. Fix it All, I can’t tell him stories that he might perceive as something that requires his help.
But we’re good. The talk was good. He talked about pursuing another career. Though the ‘new career’ would still take him back to the service, it would not require him to be in combat anymore. It amazes me that even while in training, preparing himself for combat, he still finds time to think about the future—our future.
And that let me one thing I have always wanted—to go back to school. I’m planning on it. Perfect timing actually, that will keep me busy. That adds up to my happiness today.
I can’t believe I am able (financially and emotionally) able to do the things I want to do right now.
I texted him about my plans. He is my biggest fan and he was really excited for me. With him and knowing that he is there to support all my dreams, I can do everything.
Love is such a nice and calm feeling.
Makes me smile all the time.
An hour later he texted me again. He said they’re playing with guns.
The smile faded.
Because I had a ‘happy talk’ with Dave.
Yes, Dave called. Not Marlon. I was happy. I knew it the moment I picked up the phone.
The phone call was short, as expected, but that was perhaps the happiest talk I had with him since he left for base.
Talking with him (or any other guy in his shoe for that matter) requires a lot of patience and understanding. I needed to choose my words and sentences carefully. Deployment-related stress is a big thing, and it would not do us any good if I would add more stress to that. Because he is Mr. Fix it All, I can’t tell him stories that he might perceive as something that requires his help.
But we’re good. The talk was good. He talked about pursuing another career. Though the ‘new career’ would still take him back to the service, it would not require him to be in combat anymore. It amazes me that even while in training, preparing himself for combat, he still finds time to think about the future—our future.
And that let me one thing I have always wanted—to go back to school. I’m planning on it. Perfect timing actually, that will keep me busy. That adds up to my happiness today.
I can’t believe I am able (financially and emotionally) able to do the things I want to do right now.
I texted him about my plans. He is my biggest fan and he was really excited for me. With him and knowing that he is there to support all my dreams, I can do everything.
Love is such a nice and calm feeling.
Makes me smile all the time.
An hour later he texted me again. He said they’re playing with guns.
The smile faded.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Day 3 - January 28, 2009
I got it in the mail today. A big white box from the US Post Service. Heavy as it is, I carried it two blocks from the Post Office to my office.
My hands were not cold, they were freezing. I know I’d be getting this box but I didn’t know what is inside. All he said was ‘Some army stuff’ when I asked him about it last week.
The “Some Army stuff” happens to be a seemingly endless pile of things you would never really want to have. A framed photo of him when he got promoted. Another whole bunch of pictures of him with his guys in their uniforms. He was still in the Marines then. All the old letters I sent him when we were still kids. There was a book in there too so I figured that must be his favorite one. Papers from the army, including a family packet guide on Deployment-related stress and ‘survival’ guides for families left behind. A bonnet (he must have figured out I may have bad hair days), the insurance papers for my engagement ring (now I know I have one from Zales), his car GPS (he already sold the car last week), a Jazon Mraz CD (we feel that Jason Mraz thought of us when he composed Lucky), Jeff Dunham videos and a whole lot more.
I could not finish looking at all that was inside. I pushed the box aside. After a minute I would try to open it up again and then I push it back again. I had to put a tape on its open end then rip it again few minutes after.
It was very difficult.
It was bittersweet.
His life was inside that big white box. Who he was, who he is and who he wants to be.
And he sent that all to me.
To keep it. To hold on to it. To never let it go.
Now I am here in my office and im trying really hard not to cry.
He called up at 3:34pm, just by the time my boss walked out of my office. Perfect timing. Once again, I had to put up a ‘happy hello’..whatever that means. As we promised to be always honest with each other, I told him that I appreciate him for sending me the box but it was difficult for me to see what’s inside. He understands, he always does. I’m gonna have to take the time on this one. No rush.
His voice is much lighter now..warmer than last night that made me cry myself to sleep. He has been a Marine all his life and this is going to be his first deployment as an Army. He said things are ok and his guys are fine. Told me not to watch the news so that I won’t worry as much.
‘Sorry for what I’m putting you through.” I remember him saying that. Once again I smiled and tried to be brave. I said to him, ‘I chose you and I chose this for myself. We are in this together. I’m going to be ok as long as you promise me that you will be safe.”
He promised. He always does.
The kid in him was definitely gone.
My hands were not cold, they were freezing. I know I’d be getting this box but I didn’t know what is inside. All he said was ‘Some army stuff’ when I asked him about it last week.
The “Some Army stuff” happens to be a seemingly endless pile of things you would never really want to have. A framed photo of him when he got promoted. Another whole bunch of pictures of him with his guys in their uniforms. He was still in the Marines then. All the old letters I sent him when we were still kids. There was a book in there too so I figured that must be his favorite one. Papers from the army, including a family packet guide on Deployment-related stress and ‘survival’ guides for families left behind. A bonnet (he must have figured out I may have bad hair days), the insurance papers for my engagement ring (now I know I have one from Zales), his car GPS (he already sold the car last week), a Jazon Mraz CD (we feel that Jason Mraz thought of us when he composed Lucky), Jeff Dunham videos and a whole lot more.
I could not finish looking at all that was inside. I pushed the box aside. After a minute I would try to open it up again and then I push it back again. I had to put a tape on its open end then rip it again few minutes after.
It was very difficult.
It was bittersweet.
His life was inside that big white box. Who he was, who he is and who he wants to be.
And he sent that all to me.
To keep it. To hold on to it. To never let it go.
Now I am here in my office and im trying really hard not to cry.
He called up at 3:34pm, just by the time my boss walked out of my office. Perfect timing. Once again, I had to put up a ‘happy hello’..whatever that means. As we promised to be always honest with each other, I told him that I appreciate him for sending me the box but it was difficult for me to see what’s inside. He understands, he always does. I’m gonna have to take the time on this one. No rush.
His voice is much lighter now..warmer than last night that made me cry myself to sleep. He has been a Marine all his life and this is going to be his first deployment as an Army. He said things are ok and his guys are fine. Told me not to watch the news so that I won’t worry as much.
‘Sorry for what I’m putting you through.” I remember him saying that. Once again I smiled and tried to be brave. I said to him, ‘I chose you and I chose this for myself. We are in this together. I’m going to be ok as long as you promise me that you will be safe.”
He promised. He always does.
The kid in him was definitely gone.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Day 2 - January 27, 2009
He called last night to say good night. His voice was firm, a bit cold. I said my goodnight too and while he was about to turn the phone off, I managed to shout ‘’wait’—loud enough for him to put his phone back in his ears.
Sweetly, I asked “Am I talking to Dave or am I talking to Marlon?”
“Marlon,” he said in a very nonchalant voice.
I let out a sigh. “Ok, just say hello to Dave for me and tell Dave I love him.” That was all I could say. Then I hung up.
Dave is my guy—the boy who fell in love with me back in the second grade, left Philippines when we were 11, planned on marrying me when we were 21, broke my heart at 23, found me again at 28 and now getting married to me at 30. When I told him all I want in life is to be happy, he took me to the happiest place on earth—Disneyworld. When asked about the purpose of the engagement ring, he said it’s not supposed to tie me down but a promise that he will be true to me. When asked what he would think we will be doing by the time we reach 60, he said with all conviction ‘Still playing videogames’.
Marlon is Dave--but in a military mode. Sometimes the jerk, often the insensitive one. Emotions are pushed back in order to focus. I rarely get to see him before, probably twice or thrice. At the beginning, the day would end up in argument because I did not understand it at first. I would feel rejected and hurt and ignored. Somehow, Dave comes to his senses and push Marlon back aside.
No split personality disorder here. Growing up from different countries changed the person that he was, including the career path that he chose. His friends call him Marlon. He was being Marlon. Everybody knew him as Marlon.
But we grew up with him being the Dave that he was. I call him by that name. Only me and his parents call him that. He signs everything as Marlon but his letters to me since the fifth grade until now, he signed it as Dave. I knew then that I was special.
And I knew that with him taking on this deployment, I’m gonna see a lot of Marlon now. I guess he has finally emerged from his ‘hibernation’ since last night.
If it takes that for him to be safe out there in the sand box, he can be Marlon till the next 400 days.
Sweetly, I asked “Am I talking to Dave or am I talking to Marlon?”
“Marlon,” he said in a very nonchalant voice.
I let out a sigh. “Ok, just say hello to Dave for me and tell Dave I love him.” That was all I could say. Then I hung up.
Dave is my guy—the boy who fell in love with me back in the second grade, left Philippines when we were 11, planned on marrying me when we were 21, broke my heart at 23, found me again at 28 and now getting married to me at 30. When I told him all I want in life is to be happy, he took me to the happiest place on earth—Disneyworld. When asked about the purpose of the engagement ring, he said it’s not supposed to tie me down but a promise that he will be true to me. When asked what he would think we will be doing by the time we reach 60, he said with all conviction ‘Still playing videogames’.
Marlon is Dave--but in a military mode. Sometimes the jerk, often the insensitive one. Emotions are pushed back in order to focus. I rarely get to see him before, probably twice or thrice. At the beginning, the day would end up in argument because I did not understand it at first. I would feel rejected and hurt and ignored. Somehow, Dave comes to his senses and push Marlon back aside.
No split personality disorder here. Growing up from different countries changed the person that he was, including the career path that he chose. His friends call him Marlon. He was being Marlon. Everybody knew him as Marlon.
But we grew up with him being the Dave that he was. I call him by that name. Only me and his parents call him that. He signs everything as Marlon but his letters to me since the fifth grade until now, he signed it as Dave. I knew then that I was special.
And I knew that with him taking on this deployment, I’m gonna see a lot of Marlon now. I guess he has finally emerged from his ‘hibernation’ since last night.
If it takes that for him to be safe out there in the sand box, he can be Marlon till the next 400 days.
Day 1 - January 26, 2009
Today is Dave’s first day at the base at New Jersey.
Today marks the start of activating what Dave calls as our ‘military mode’.
Sure I can miss him, but I can’t tell that to him. Sure I can be sad, but I can’t tell him that either. The same thing goes for him. Whatever we feel about being separated—we cannot discuss between each other. I can’t be crying. I can’t feel the misery. Whatever I am feeling right now, I have to keep it to myself.
That’s what our ‘military mode’ is supposed to be. Someone has already pressed the button and it has been activated. He has hopped on the bus and on his way to Jersey on an 8-hour ride.
“Sure I will miss you, but I can’t drown in my sadness and lose my focus. That’s how people get killed over there.” I still remember these words that he said, uttered with such firmness that sent shivers down my spine.
Last night was our last skype date. That’ll be the last time I see his face on the screen again. It was bittersweet. I could see sadness in his eyes and he was trying hard to give me his widest smile. We were both watching Comedy Central together, trying to mask the sadness with the laughs on tv that seems to be so temporary. I gave him my widest smile – enough for the tears to roll down the sides of the cheeks and not straight down. He was still there and I was missing him already.
No matter what he said about not being sad, I was sad as hell can be.
The 400-day countdown has not even started yet. it won’t till the 15th of February.
On that day, he will board on a plane to go to Iraq.
And on that same day, I will board a plane to Costa Rica.
I wish it’ll be 2010 when I wake up tomorrow.
Today marks the start of activating what Dave calls as our ‘military mode’.
Sure I can miss him, but I can’t tell that to him. Sure I can be sad, but I can’t tell him that either. The same thing goes for him. Whatever we feel about being separated—we cannot discuss between each other. I can’t be crying. I can’t feel the misery. Whatever I am feeling right now, I have to keep it to myself.
That’s what our ‘military mode’ is supposed to be. Someone has already pressed the button and it has been activated. He has hopped on the bus and on his way to Jersey on an 8-hour ride.
“Sure I will miss you, but I can’t drown in my sadness and lose my focus. That’s how people get killed over there.” I still remember these words that he said, uttered with such firmness that sent shivers down my spine.
Last night was our last skype date. That’ll be the last time I see his face on the screen again. It was bittersweet. I could see sadness in his eyes and he was trying hard to give me his widest smile. We were both watching Comedy Central together, trying to mask the sadness with the laughs on tv that seems to be so temporary. I gave him my widest smile – enough for the tears to roll down the sides of the cheeks and not straight down. He was still there and I was missing him already.
No matter what he said about not being sad, I was sad as hell can be.
The 400-day countdown has not even started yet. it won’t till the 15th of February.
On that day, he will board on a plane to go to Iraq.
And on that same day, I will board a plane to Costa Rica.
I wish it’ll be 2010 when I wake up tomorrow.
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