Sunday morning paper, browsing current events, coupon clippers, and the military section. Amidst another not-so-great day (Why have they been so prevalent lately?) I stumbled across an entire section written for me. First, the article titled Living with Superman written by the acclaimed author of Operation Marriage and fellow Army wife, Rebekah Sanderlin. Sanderlin explains the struggles of living with a superhero. The man who can do ANYTHING he puts his mind to, and how being his wife, and a competitor, often can be a really proud challenge. Now in contrast, Sanderlin's husband up and decided to run a marathon. The night before the race. Without training. All I can say to that is WOW. Now I have no doubt that if Romeo wanted it badly enough, he'd do it too. At the same time, I also know that Romeo can't rationalize running unless it was for his life, so I'm not too terribly concerned about a spontaneous marathon. Either way, spending everyday knowing that your man is a super superhero is a proud event, even if secretly, you'll do everything in your might to keep up.
Next article, entitled An Open Letter to a New Army Wife may have been titled "Dear Meg, READ ME". Brenna Berger, of Home Front, thank you. Thank you for prefacing your article as follows:
I'm sorry to hear that your new husband deployed
much sooner than you had hoped. You didn't get the
luxury of gingerly testing the waters of military life.
Instead, you have found yourself standing on the high
dive with no other choice but to jump right into the deep
end of the pool.
Hah. Oh hello best friend! Have you been spying on my life? How is it that you can read me like a book? Ohhhh, what is that you say? That nearly every new Army wife has to send her man off sooner than she had hoped? That anytime he leaves is too soon? Exactly.
Nonetheless, the article goes on with tips and tricks of the trade to passing the time. SUCCESSFULLY.
Some included dealing with the bad days as you see fit. There is no one procedure that we all must follow. Next, surround yourself with friends. THANK GOD for them. (Thanks ladies!!) And also, remove the excess drama from your life. You don't need it. You have enough.
Mostly though, the tip that I hadn't heard before, and the one that stuck out the most, is called the "Commo Check", and this is the one that has me thinking.
According to Berger, the Commo Check is a nod to the old "Don't go to bed angry." The updated version is "Never send an email/text angry."
Oh, I get it now.
And this is where the age of communication comes in.
I've had a lot (and by a lot, I mean just way more than usual) of bad days lately. The tears, and upset, you know the type. Anyway, as it would seem, Romeo has a sixth sense about these things, and with that, he always seems to call during break-down time. Now don't get me wrong, when he does call, hearing his voice makes things better, but the fact that he's hearing the tears is not what I want. He's been hearing the weakness, and I know that it makes things so much harder for him.
On a rather warm and humid run/jog/walk with friend yesterday, we got to talking about letters. About how letters just seem so much more personal than a phone call or an email, or a text. He touched the letter you're reading. That same exact piece of paper was in his hands, and now it is in yours. There is a connection so much stronger there than through a wire or a signal. Not saying that the same message couldn't be conveyed, but the attachment is just a little bit stronger.
Who ever fought through a letter?
Modern technology is a blessing, but the sum of all of the parts of this post is this: When it is a bad day, a letter, you can walk away from until you're feeling better. A phone call, unless you're strong enough to watch it go to voicemail, you can't walk away from. And as soon as you pick up that phone, if he's anything like Romeo, he'll know exactly what you're thinking before you can come up with the words yourself. There's no hiding. And even moreso, when you're upset, or worse, mad, about something, it is way too easy to pick up the phone, start typing, or start yelling into a webcam about whatever nonsense you're worked up about. Everyone is too reachable.
Romeo, if you're reading this, I AM NOT saying don't call. PLEASE CALL. Like I mentioned, THANK GOD for modern technology. What I am saying is this: Forgive me for my moments of weakness. Forgive me for showing you the bad days. Not that I was trying to hide them, but I would've rather you known about them when you come home, instead of while you're still there and can't see that I am okay. Because I AM OKAY. I can be a baby sometimes, and unfortunately, you've now gotten to see that. I'm sorry for that, because you've got enough to worry about. Please know that I AM FINE and that I appreciate your honesty. It is part of the reason why I love who you are so much. Don't stop being you because I'm being a big baby. It was just a bad day.
The conclusion of all of this is that being able to talk all the time is wonderful. It can be a great comfort. Just make sure you communicate wisely, and TRY to have it all together. Not saying to be dishonest or hide things, but rationalize yourself first. Observe the perspectives, and make sure you're saying what you mean. Don't convey something that you don't want to, and don't lead the other end of the conversation into thinking something different. Be strong for each other, and don't forget that despite the distance, you're still in it together.