Envy

Never in my life have I wanted something so bad as I've wanted to experience a Welcome Home ceremony. This past week, we've gone to three ceremonies. The soldiers are all flying home on different flights, instead of doing it by company, which would keep all the same guys together. That would just make too much sense. Jason wanted to see all of his closest buddies come in, so we had to go to three different ceremonies. The first one was new, and fun, and exciting. Jason joined the formation of guys after greeting them all getting off the plane. They were recognized in the speech, and got to stand in the front.  For the second ceremony, he didn't wear his uniform, he just greeted all the guys he knew. And the same for the third. Each time, they played "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" as the guys walked in, and the screams were so loud and high pitched (the majority of people are wives, duh) it gave me goosebumps every time. And, in that moment, all three times, I felt so insanely jealous of these women, and families.

I'm not a crier, but I did cry the day he left. Just a few tears, after he hugged me and went to wait for them to call "8190". I scanned the crowd and couldn't find him, and I panicked. He came back, and hugged me again. In the pit of my stomach, I was so worried about him. "I'll be fine", he said. "I know, but it's different this time." (We found out three weeks before he deployed that I was pregnant) "I know, I'll come home to you, don't worry."

He was on the first plane to leave, too. So he was alone out there, relieving the other unit, for a couple weeks until his buddies joined him. He would whisper on the phone, "I'm so scared. The enemy is so close to us."

Those three months of deployment are such a distant memory now. We Skyped a handful of times, but the internet connection was always terrible. I sent him about four care packages; one never made it to him, and two got returned. I remember telling him to be careful, not to get too confident out there, this wasn't like his other deployments. (Like I knew what I was talking about. Ha.) I remember when he told me that one of the guys stepped on a land mine. We had a conversation about it. (about 3 weeks prior to his own incident) What would life be like? How hard must that be? "I can't imagine having to go through that." Never in a million years did I think we'd have to. I wouldn't have believed you if you told me this would be our life now. If you told me the things we would go through, I would have laughed in your face and said "there's no way I'd be able to handle that."

The last time he was deployed, we were only dating. And he was stationed in Germany, so there was no way I'd be able to get over there to see him come home without being a family member of any sort. I remember going to get him at the airport though, when he came home for block leave. We were excited, but everyone around us was just going about their normal day, having no idea we hadn't seen each other for about a year.

I told him tonight, while waiting for the guys, "Remember how I would always get mad at you for not Skyping with me enough? I would give up seeing you at all for a whole year if that meant we didn't have to deal with this." How could we have known? Of course I can do the "if only" game all night long. I can want that Welcome Home ceremony so bad it hurts, but it's not going to make his leg grow back. It's not going to change our story.

I want to know how that excitement feels. I want to run and jump in his arms again. I want him to feel normal again. I want him to stop second guessing why he was doing what he was doing. I want him to be happy. I want us to be happy. I want to be so excited I feel like I might pass out. I want to cry out of sheer anticipation. I want to be shaky and have my heart racing. I want to watch him hold his son for the first time since his leave. I want to be searching for him in a sea of Multi Cam. 


I wonder if going to these ceremonies was a bad idea. Maybe three was too many. Each time I get more and more envious. I cry out on the inside - I wanted this too. Why couldn't we have had this too? Why do you deserve this and I don't? 


I am so excited for all of our friends husbands that have finally come home, and those that are still to come. I'm excited to get back to bar-b-quein and hangin out like old times. I'm excited for Jason, to see those guys again, and I hope all of our friendships will pick up where they left off.

But at the end of the day, everyone goes home and does normal things while we come home and slather steroid cream all over to help his itchy rash, use crutches to take a shower, wear gloves to sleep at night, and get $350 parking tickets because you forgot to hang your handicapped placard up.

He gave me a big long hug in the parking lot. He saw the longing in my eyes as I watched excited wives try to help their husbands load the oversized bags they lived out of for the last year in to their tiny two door cars. I watched them just stare at their husbands in amazement, like they couldn't believe they were really here, that this was finally happening.

"I'm sorry. I know you wanted this so bad. I did too." Of course you did. No one wants to not have a right foot! I'm glad he recognized how much it's been agonizing me, though.

I have got to find peace with this. This could be considered closure, but it's still not over for us. Boy are we ready for it to be over! The thing is, no matter where we go, someone will always want to know his story. For someone as humble as Jason, it is not an interesting story, and it's not one he feels like telling over and over again. He hates telling his story. He hates any kind of attention, and now he's always going to get some form of it no matter where he goes! Unless he's wearing pants, and unless there are a bunch of amputees in one area, then he may not be as noticeable :)

We are just dying to know what the greater good in all of this is. 

No pun intended.