Isn’t it funny how you can get so wrapped up in a moment where you don’t realize something happened until it’s done? Like you are going through the motions to make it through, but it doesn’t truly register until later?
Or maybe it’s just me. When there is something I absolutely do NOT want to deal with, like public speaking, I will have a mental kung fu grip on the moment, focusing so hard that there is no room for meaningless thoughts or pep talks with myself. It will be alright.
In this case, it was a “see you later” kind of thing. It’s never a good time to say these things, especially if there is nothing you can do about it. You can’t drag it out another hour, push this thing to the following spring, or even 10 years down the road.
I had to say this thing tonight. I was so wrapped up in the moment that my thoughts weren’t in line with my emotions until I heard them pull away from my house. I literally just stood in my office, in shock.
“She’s moving away.”
For the past 5 years, she has been 3 hours way. That’s 150 miles from her drive way to mine. You can tell how often we have made that commute. That’s many many trips between the two of us.
And now, Indiana is where they will plant their roots.
The military lifestyle is a hard one for so many reasons. But the one area I have the most trouble with in this lifestyle is the one where we have to say these things when our time is up.
So there I was, in my office. TOTAL disbelief. I didn’t act appropriately. All I could do was hug her. There were so many other things I wanted to say to her, to comfort her. If I uttered more than a full sentence, the plug holding in my emotions would have blown off the top and I would have been a mess dealing with those things for myself.
I found myself trying to grasp at and cling to every single memory I could, as if I were falling down a hole and every one of them was flying past me. She has been around for most of my kids’ lives. She’s been my emergency contact. My road-tripper. Gallivanting side-kick. She’s been there for me.
Very fitting that it happened to be raining on the day we had to say these things. I’d hate to otherwise wake up with a sunrise and despise it for being so beautiful, when I feel like I had a hole punched in my chest the sunset before.
I’m typically not an emotional person at face value. There’s always something brewing on the inside, whether it’s pure joy or utter despair and sadness, or everything in between. Happiness is easy to share, though all of the icky emotions stay right where I like to keep them. It is possible that I became so amazing at keeping the lid on tight in these moments where we have to say these things that make me so uncomfortable in every way. It is very likely that this has become my defense mechanism in dealing with these things that make my heart ache.
This too shall pass.
I’m not very good with these things that we have to say. Maybe I’m a little inappropriate and awkward. Everything rushing to my heart after the moment has passed, and there I am alone with a rolling replay in my mind of what just happened. If there is a sunrise to look forward to tomorrow, let it bring positive vibes and warmth to my heart. For I’m aching something awful right now.