My husband left on Jan 3rd. At approximately 1:30 we left the parking lot where he was sitting on bus ready to take off on his journey of war.
I cried all the way home and don't remember much of the rest of the day. The whole first week I kept myself busy. A phone call on Monday cheered me up until it was time to say goodbye. Wednesday night I missed a call because the kids where talking to their grandpa and didn't notice the beeping in their ears. I was so upset and enraged, I didn't know whether to yell, scream or cry. So like a lunatic I did all three, then quickly apologized of course. He did call back Thursday morning and that was the greatest way to start my day. I made it to the post office on Thursday to mail his first of many packages to come. Now I'm still waiting for his next call....
A lot of my friends say "Your a lot stronger than me, I could never go through that" Somedays I don't feel strong enough myself. All I can do is countdown until he's home again. I have found that counting by weeks is the easiest. It goes quicker than months and a less number than days.
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