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September 06, 2007
This Empty House
When I awoke this morning, the house was silent again except for the sound of birds chattering in the woods outside my bedroom window.
I am an early riser. I like those stolen moments before the rest of the world begins to stir; before the paper lands on my driveway with a reassuring smack, before the neighbors in my crunchy granola neighborhood escort their miniature elephants on leashes to my rock garden, where they leave their calling cards among the daylillies and blackeyed susans (the elephants, not my neighbors). If I'm lucky, I'll savor a cup or two of coffee before He Who Must Be Obeyed summons me with his great, barbaric yawp to free him from his lair and stand aside as he thunders up the stairs, tiny dachshund paws sounding like a herd of buffalo.
Solitude can be a gift, an oasis of peace amid the noise and confusion of daily living.
I thought of that the other day when reading about deployment and separation. I've often thought that if one question should come to define this deployment for me, it will be, "So, how are you doing all alone in that big empty house?"
It's a good question, and I know it comes from a good place. People ask because they are concerned, because they want to make conversation, or simply because they know nothing about military life and wonder what they would do in a similar situation? And I have my stock answer, given a thousand times before. It rolls off my lips almost without thought. "Piece of cake. I've done this so many times before. Not a problem." Deep breath, big smile; I don't want to dwell on it. I have stock answers for so many things.
"And how is your husband doing in Baghdad?"
"Oh he's living the life of Reilly! Hot and cold running belly dancers. Living in one of Saddam's palaces. He's partying like it's 1199." Of course, he's not living anywhere so fancy, but the corny jokes head off the flood of sympathy and commiseration. And that's the only thing I can't deal with, because it erodes all those carefully constructed barriers.
How am I dealing with living all alone in this empty house?
That's a complicated truth that even I don't understand fully, because I'm too close to it. But I've completed enough deployments to understand that, like pregnancies, each one is different yet each one has elements of sameness to it. I can remember the first few times my husband left for a year. Feeling brief moments of doubt before he left, as the prospect of entire year alone stretched out before me. How would I cope? What if we both changed too much, drifted apart? What if he stopped loving me? It's the unknown that threatens. Not sleeping at first, being afraid at night in our empty house in a new neighborhood with no neighbors, the weight of caring for and defending two small children seeming overwhelming. What if I let him down?
But as the deployment stretched on I adjusted. Normally I am somewhat of a closet anarchist. I hate nothing more than lists, watches, timetables, schedules; but during a deployment rules and lists came to define my life. I made rules for everything. They filled up the day, gave it purpose and structure, kept me from drifting, feeling sorry for myself. I would try something new - it had to be something that scared me - every month. I would go out more. I would join something (I hate joining things). I would learn a new hobby.
I would take lessons in something, learn a new skill. I would go against the grain.
As time passed and I stretched my wings, I became more confident. Free of the necessity to accommodate another adult, I reordered my life to suit me. I had time to do things I couldn't do when he was home. There were advantages to being alone, as well as drawbacks.
And I counted the days, and as I grew and changed, I tried not to grow too far apart from the woman I had been before my husband left. Because that is the danger; when you put your feelings on the shelf, when you try to cope well, there is always the risk of overcompensating, of forgetting how very much you need that person on the other side of the world.
And you do. And he still needs you to need him. It is not that you couldn't survive without him. Any adult can, and this is the good part of deployments. We are reminded that we can cope with anything, that life can be difficult and stressful at times but that when we are challenged, we will dig deep and find within ourselves the resourcefulness to answer those challenges. We emerge from this crucible of sorts stronger, better, wiser people; hopefully with a better understanding of how the world works, of the tasks he performed for us when he was home.
How am I coping with being all alone in this empty house? Most days, far better than I expected to. For the first time I can recall, I am not at all afraid at night, to be alone in the house. I think it is because my children are gone and I don't have to worry about defending them anymore. I never realized how heavily that weighed on me.
But I think the answer to that question came home to me early on a Tuesday morning in August when my cell phone rang unexpectedly. My husband was in Atlanta, flying into Dulles earlier than expected. My home phone had been taken out by a lightning strike and the phone company wouldn't come out to fix it for a week. I had things to do at work. I was, actually, out in my yard trying to finish some yard work.
The airport was over an hour away and I hadn't even taken a shower.
Two hours later, I walked into the baggage claim area at Dulles dressed in a hot pink sundress I'd bought especially for the occasion. My brand new, to-die-for high heeled sandals were torturing my feet, but at least I was calm as a cucumber.
Until I saw him in his desert cammies, standing by the baggage carousel. And as he wrapped his arms around me all the tears I hadn't cried over the past six months just washed over me like a summer storm. Where did that come from?
I get so annoyed at the pitying articles in the Washington Post and the New York Times about the heartbreak of deployment, the agony of separation, about families "torn apart" by the prospect of yet another tour of duty in the sandbox. As I go about my daily routine, I don't feel heartbroken, agonized, or "torn apart". I never have. And if you ask me how I'm dealing with being all alone in this empty house, I'll tell you, "fine". And I'll smile.
But also, I will remember that moment in the airport when I didn't ever want to let him go, when I couldn't stop touching him: his sleeve, the muscles in his arms, his back, the reassuring stubble on his cheek, just to make sure he was still there. Because there is a price. But what they don't understand is that we are strong enough to pay it and even when we grumble, which we do now and then because we're human, we don't mind so much.
Except every now and then. If we dwell on it.
Posted by Cassandra at September 6, 2007 07:35 AM
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Comments
I truly believe that the military lifestyle offers us the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. For me, the highs far outweigh the lows.
Speaking of the pity factor...
A military spouse once handled a tough question from a reporter with grace and class, effectively destroying the pity party. I believe it came shortly after the deployment extensions for the Army were announced. When the reporter asked her how she felt about it (as if she was going to say, "Yea! That's great news"), she said (paraphrasing), "You know what? If I have to live without my husband for a few more months so that an entire nation may experience freedom, I think I can live with that." What a great answer. I steal the quote sometimes because it's just too good.
Great post, Cass. Loved it!
Posted by: Andi at September 6, 2007 10:27 AM
sigh...
This is so well said, Cass...
Posted by: Carrie at September 6, 2007 10:52 AM
I thought of both of you when I wrote it.
There is so much I would have liked to write about deployments. The other great blessing of deployments is other military wives - learning from them, the unbelievable gift of being able to share life's little aggravations (like the dog thing!) and know they won't take them too seriously. Friendship is like a well you can drink from when you are weary and at your wits end, and you walk away refreshed. I think we learn so much from each other.
Posted by: Cassandra at September 6, 2007 11:01 AM
Well, now that he is back you can get a whole new set of questions. Here are a few my wife got:
1. Is he in counseling? followed closely by: Why not?
2. Is he messed up?
3. Is he having nightmares?
4. Will he have to go back (or when is he going back)?
5. Did he kill anyone?
6. Are you going to make him get out/retire/quit?
I've been in 20 plus years and I really can't tell what was worse ... being ridiculed/looked down upon (early 80's), being ignored (90's) or being the subject of pity (since people started getting tired of Iraq).
Posted by: Frodo at September 6, 2007 11:10 AM
Heh.
Unfortunately he went back for another 6 months. But I've already gotten #4 and #6, though most people know me well enough to be very careful about what they ask me :p
I must have a reputation for not suffering fools gladly. I get
Will his tour be extended like the Army? (first of all, he's already over there for a year instead of the usual 7 month Marine deployment, but if it is, it will be for a good reason and we'll handle it)
Aren't you worried about IEDs? (of course I am, but he has a job to do)
What does he think about the war? (that since we're over there anyway, we ought to consider winning it)
And the one that really makes me grit my teeth:
"I'm sorry to hear that", after they hear he's in Iraq.
Well, I'm not sorry. I'm proud of him.
Posted by: Cassandra at September 6, 2007 11:37 AM
Visqueen, Mazola Oil, and Egg Salad! Morale boosters of the highest grade! :-o
5. Did he kill anyone?
God, I STILL get that one about my son. Why? Does it make him any different? Worse? A blood lusting Marine? Uh, he was a combat Infantry Marine. Just what the hell do they think he was doing? Geez! What is the reasoning behind the question? An agenda or simply morbid curiosity? And no, he's not broken or maladjusted. Damn fine young man with his head screwed on straight. Just like all of his buddies!
I like his answer when he gets that question: "I did what was asked of me by my Country and my Corps!"
Yeah, ya' get rambling in that big ol' house Cassie and then the down times hit. That is the moment you are constantly harrassed by your friends until you smile, laugh or go stark raving looney tunes. he-he! Ain't it grand to have friends? ;-)
And of course you can always get reports on the hilarious shenanigans that occur during Dawg home weekends. Now THAT will give you a pick me up! Insanity can be scary though. I speak from vast experience! :-o
Posted by: JHD at September 6, 2007 11:55 AM
People actually ask that "did he kill" question? That's the one I could never imagine myself asking! How horrible.
Cass, this post is fantastic, and I really appreciate it. I have heard that it isn't the deployments so much as the adjustment upon return that is difficult. Sounds like you're a pro!
RG
Posted by: RightGirl at September 6, 2007 01:46 PM
Did he kill anyone?
Him: "And just *how* many people did *you* kill in Vietnam, Bill?"
Me: [citing three-digit number]
Him: "*WHAAAT*? You actually kept count? Why?"
Me: "Because I knew some jerk would *ask* me after I got back."
[passing Cassie deck of "Get Out of Snark Free" cards...]
Posted by: BillT at September 6, 2007 01:50 PM
Nobody's ever asked me the "did he kill anyone" question but I know others have been asked.
I have a reply ready just in case someone decides to be stupid.
"Well, not as many as I wanted him to so I'm making him go back and get that number up to my satisfaction."
Posted by: Carrie at September 6, 2007 02:35 PM
I have a reply ready just in case someone decides to be stupid.
[passing Carrie extra deck of "Get Out of Snark Free" cards...]
Posted by: BillT at September 6, 2007 02:59 PM
Thank you! That was one of the most accurate and moving accounts of what deployment is like.
Posted by: Jen at September 6, 2007 03:09 PM
I wish I were a pro. I don't think you ever totally get used to it, RG, but you do get better at it - just as practice makes you better at everything else.
Of course, you weren't holding my hand on the phone last night when I was crying because my 11 year old dog had been lost for 6 hours and I'd been afraid he was dead or lying in a hole somewhere in the woods. About 3 pm when I was walking up a hill the size of Mt. Everest trying to find Sausage, I just wanted to run screaming into the lake.
I was fine until about 6 when I finally found him.
Then, I lost it :)
Posted by: Cassandra at September 6, 2007 03:20 PM
"'Well, not as many as I wanted him to so I'm making him go back and get that number up to my satisfaction.'"
Oh, I am sooo using that the next time!
Posted by: Sly2017 at September 6, 2007 03:21 PM
"Visqueen, Mazola Oil, and Egg Salad!"
Dangit, JHD, why didn't you tell me you were bringin' party supplies? I'd have brought the whipped cream, cherries and champagne!
Posted by: Sly2017 at September 6, 2007 03:26 PM
Don't foget that Cass has that trapeze up now...
and the disco ball.
Don't forget the windex for the disco ball.
What else?
the pool filled with jello?
Posted by: Carrie at September 6, 2007 03:28 PM
Sly,
if people are going to ask assinine questions like that, they ought to get an appropriate answer.
Posted by: Carrie at September 6, 2007 03:29 PM
Thanks for the cards, Bill!!!
Posted by: Carrie at September 6, 2007 03:30 PM
I thought it was the hot tub full of jello and the pool filled with pomegranite margaritta's? Or did someone change the menu and I missed the memo....?
Posted by: Sly2017 at September 6, 2007 04:17 PM
Nobody ever tells me nothin'....
fine...hot tub of jello and pool of pomegranite margaritas.
Do we have enough saran wrap?
Posted by: Carrie at September 6, 2007 04:21 PM
You all are *so* going to pay for this.
Oh yes. You will pay.
Posted by: Princess Leia, No Bikini at September 6, 2007 04:22 PM
What the hell is Visqueen?
Not that I really want to know, mind you.
Posted by: Princess Leia, No Bikini at September 6, 2007 04:23 PM
Khoi ha naheen, Carrie.
[Urdu for " T'weren't nuthin'."]
Ma'am.
Posted by: BillT at September 6, 2007 04:36 PM
Um, why am I not invited to this kinky party?
RG
Posted by: RightGirl at September 6, 2007 04:36 PM
"You all are *so* going to pay for this.
Oh yes. You will pay"
I blame Watt.
Yes, I do...
I blame Watt..
How 'bout you?
Posted by: Carrie at September 6, 2007 04:40 PM
RG, if you bring egg salad I can promise you a warm welcome.
Oh, I so did not say that.
/back to the dungeon...err...work.
Posted by: Princess Leia, No Bikini at September 6, 2007 04:45 PM
I blame JHD. He started it.
He has the Schwartz, and it's bigger than uhhhh....nevermind.
And visqueen is very thin plastic.....
Posted by: Sly2017 at September 6, 2007 04:49 PM
Wow. I would have sworn it was either like Crisco or vegetable oil.
You learn something new every day. Or.... not.
Posted by: Princess Leia, No Bikini at September 6, 2007 04:58 PM
Princess Leia, No Bikini
I still love that mental image.
(I know: "Men!" Heh...)
But ON topic, great post...if you get this old veteran misty-eyed, it's a great post.
Posted by: camojack at September 6, 2007 05:32 PM
:)
Posted by: Princess Leia, No Bikini at September 6, 2007 05:58 PM
I just found your blog and this post is exactly true for me. So well said, thank you.
Posted by: emily at September 6, 2007 06:24 PM
You all are *so* going to pay for this.
Course they are paying for this. They are bringing the supplies for the party, yes?
Posted by: Ymarsakar at September 6, 2007 08:59 PM
Great post Cass,
My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
Paul
Posted by: Paul at September 6, 2007 09:20 PM
I'll have to have Mrs. Frodo take some lessons from you Cass ... though she does well on her own ... God knows I am amazed every day at her strength.
Posted by: Frodo at September 6, 2007 10:47 PM
I just found your blog and this post is exactly true for me. So well said, thank you.
Uh..... welcome to the asylum? Heh!
See how they pick on me all the time? I just give and give and give and all they give me back is a complex! You military wives. Sheesh! And I was such a shy, quiet, inexperienced, nice guy before! :-o
And The Lady of the Blog asks what Visqueen is? My oh my! Think carpet protection Cassie! And slippery-slidin'! Makes the pyramids more fun!!! ;-)
Posted by: JHD at September 6, 2007 10:55 PM
Makes the pyramids more fun!!!
Biiiig advantage over a tarp.
You don't get all those li'l teeny square imprints in your skin...
Posted by: BillT at September 6, 2007 11:23 PM
But with a tarp you have grommet holes for the ropes....
Posted by: Sly2017 at September 6, 2007 11:27 PM
TMI!
Posted by: Don Brouhaha at September 7, 2007 08:25 AM
TMI!
Only in Villainous Company could such a beautiful post end up here. LMAO!
Posted by: FbL at September 7, 2007 09:19 AM
It's all your fault Fuzzy!
If you weren't such a playa and with all those innuendos and stuff we'd be calmer! :-o
That and we keep stirring up Sly! ;-)
Posted by: JHD at September 7, 2007 10:48 AM
But with a tarp you have grommet holes for the ropes....
Work on your people skills and the accessories will be superfluous.
...and the pool filled with pomegranite margaritta's
Pummeled granite will leave a mark. Use pomegranates instead. And lose the egg salad...
Posted by: BillT at September 7, 2007 11:55 AM