" ...When you are compelled to give up something, or when something dear is withdrawn from you, know that this is your lesson to be learned right now. But know also that as you are learning this lesson, God wants to give you something better..."
After the mental, emotional, physical, and financial preparation of both The Hubs and myself, the day was finally here. He shook me awake yesterday morning around 8am, and as soon as I realized what day it was, what waking up would mean, I started crying. And we laid in bed while I cried for over an hour. Like, gut-wrenching sobs, alternating with quiet little sniffles, and everything in between. We even ignored the cries and demands of the kids (for a bit - not too long) while I got a lot of my emotion out.
The Hubs & I got up, got the kids fed and dressed, he ate, we both got dressed, loaded up his gear into the car, and left. We drove through post, out to the Ranger training area. I dropped him off. It was rather unceremonious. Since there was a pretty big (4 hour?) window of time to be dropped off, there was no gathering of weeping wives, kids running around, or even soldiers getting ready for the next two months. There was just a parking lot with a few cars in it, next to a building and a bus stop, across the street from the barracks & part of the training area, where most of the guys who were already there had gathered under a pavilion. We got out of the car (just me & The Hubs, no kiddos), unloaded his gear, I snapped a quick picture of him completely loaded down, and he left. Walked across the street, in through the gate, and away from me.
We came home, did the nap thing, had dinner, kids had baths, and I stayed up until 2am revamping the blog, watching dvr'd reruns of HOUSE (LOVE that show!), and eating junk food.
This morning was a little different, but not much. Since The Hubs had been in the field so much, I had gotten somewhat used to sleeping and waking up alone. Last night, I left Big Brother's bedroom door ajar when I went to bed, so instead of banging on the door and making a mess when he woke up, he gathered up his cars (his most prized possessions) and crawled into bed with me until Little Sis woke up. We had brekkie, and I was picking up a bit, when my phone rang. Not just any ring. The Hubs's ringtone. I missed the call (apparently I'd put my phone into the cup cupboard & shut the door?), and called him back, only to hear the words 'I need you to come get me.'
I was devastated. He had been looking forward to (and dreading) Ranger school for months upon months... and now, because of ONE pushup, it was over. They had counted 48 of his pushups in the qualifying PT test this morning, when he needed 49 to pass. BOGUS!
So, tearfully, I loaded the kids into the car and drove out to get him. It was a sad morning. Disappointing. Absolutely NO disappointment in him... but TONS of disappointment FOR him.
So now he's home. I want to be happy, really, I do. But I'm not. The kids are ecstatic. But I want him to be out there, starving, fighting and rucking and marching and not sleeping, and doing it all over again, because that's where HE wants to be. We don't know what's happening now. 2 more schools (Airborne & Mec Leader) and a PCS to Fort Carson are in our future... but exact dates, times, and details are still in the air.
Life changes, so quickly, and we don't always know why, but we've got to roll with it and hope there's a damn good reason.