The Details......

Healing.

As a Spouse I suppose when they come home, you know better than to expect the exact same life you had. We get close, oh so close. But things are a little different. Especially for the first couple of months home. Things are just different. I recall having helium balloons all over the neighborhood and the house when DH arrived home. Of course having children, a couple made the way into the house. And as the balloons floated from room to room.....one night while sitting on the couch my DH said "those fucking balloons keep freaking me out." For a moment I laughed, and then I noted they ended up being tied to something. I forget if I did it or he did it.

When I was in Kileen with the SpouseBuzz ladies, I confessed once again that I have not been able to ask my DH for "the details" of his deployment. The 39ths losses left me spinning, and the embedded blogger Amy Schlesing those of us back home well informed, and she did it with honor and she delivered the news back home as softly as one could.

I guess i just didn't want to hear the story that would prove me as lucky and blessed. I was afraid that I would have a mental picute of an incident or incidents that would leave me broken. Only to picture the incident over and over, and knowing that this war is no where near completion, I knew my DH would be serving his country in the same capacity again.

A few months ago, I felt I owed it to my DH and myself, to sit and listen to what he felt like sharing. I told him, I thought i was ready. After all, there was an amazing amount of guilt that was sitting on my shoulders making him carry this load alone. I owed it to him to at least listen.

So I sat by my Husbands side, and I looked at the maps, and the roads, and I listened to him tell me about his life while at Camp Taji.

Almost 2 years it took me ..... to ask. And he did it as softly as he was able, looking at my face, gauging my reactions. And in typical AWTM, and DH fasion, we did our dance as delicately as we were able. DH explaining what his job entailed, and me sitting there wanting to cover my ears and saying "uh huh, right.....uh huh......." Picturing his life in my head. Me trying not to cry, and him sitting there, telling me just enough to make me understand why he is quiet sometimes.

Fucking balloons.