Perfect moments are those both big and small occasions when all of your Angels agree in song, your stars align and the God’s are smiling and for that one moment in time all is perfect and right in your corner of the world. Lori at LavenderLuz.com challenges us to be mindful of such moments in our daily lives. Turns out, she is right and the more you notice your stars aligning, the more your Angels tend to sing. Trust me at times you must dig deep and look far and wide to find your stars. Not always easy but always worth it.
As I reflect over this past month my mind has gone back to such a moment, on a day in May, ten years ago that I feared would never come.
Before The Captain was “The Captain” he was the “OIC” (Officer in Charge) of a Helicopter Detachment in the Fall of 2002. There was much turmoil on the other side of the world and he was scheduled to deploy on a ship headed to the party. Times were a changing and he was deploying with a detachment of 4 women and 1 man. Constantly asked how I felt about this, I would respond, “I just hope they don’t throw him overboard, my resume is grossly outdated.”
Who cared about women? Not me! I had bigger fish to fry. Three weeks before his scheduled departure we discovered we were to be blessed with baby #3! Never a good planner I tried to take it in stride but I am sure if I divulged names you would get another story:)
My initial game plan of lots of coffee in the morning and a glass of wine at night was now tossed aside and I was left with two choices: 1. Suck it up; and 2. Suck it up! Tough decision but I went with number 2! I would like to paint you a picture of a dutiful Navy wife sending letters to my husband in between getting my pearls strung, making care packages and entertaining my children so that there young minds were constantly stimulated. But that would be, you guessed it, a big fat lie!
In fact it all started a little like this…The Big Brother, Johnny and I standing on a pier waving to Daddy as he slowly faded into a dot on the ocean, while I bit my lip in half trying not to cry as to not scare my babies. We then went home where I tried to establish a new routine which consisted of yelling at a plumber that there was S**t floating down my hallway because Johnny flushed my mascara down the toilet. Things were starting off a little rocky.
As the months progressed the excitement continued. The Big Brother was a crazy three-year old and Johnny was 17 months old, not walking or talking and I was beginning to be concerned that all was not “normal.” But I tried to push this into the back of my mind as I was preoccupied with watching a constant stream of CNN and FOX News as it became more and more apparent that things were heating up and there was no homecoming date in sight. Then one night in March I felt my world crashing down as I watched in horror the missiles being shot from the ship The Captain was aboard and not knowing when and if he was coming home. While the boys watched an endless stream of “Blues Clues” in the living room, I bit on a towel and sobbed in the kitchen.
Despair and fear began to set in as I became overwhelmed with delivering this baby on my own. Military families do this every day. And though I knew this, it didn’t make it any easier. But I was grateful for my Dear Friends who assured me I would NOT be alone and continued to carry, push, pull and whatever else it would take to get me through. As I had developed some strange reverse morning sickness toward the end of my pregnancy, I needed all the pushing and pulling I could get.
About 7 months into my pregnancy this “reverse morning sickness” caused me to spend my days retching in the bathroom and sipping purple Gatorade. The boys’ diets were just a step above with an alternating menu of grilled cheese and chicken nuggets. It was survival of the fittest and I was determined…or just downright insane.
Month 9 and at my wits end on an early Saturday morning, already perched in front of the news, I received what must’ve been a message from God above. It was the banner on the bottom of the screen telling me that the battle group The Captain’s ship was in was heading HOME!!! I couldn’t believe it. It was almost over, but not yet.
Finally, we received a homecoming date and as luck would have it, it was my due date. Not a problem really, unless you consider I had already given birth to two babies on their due date and number three didn’t act like he was going to wait around much longer. So The Captain did the unthinkable. He left liberty in Hawaii and got on a plane to San Diego.
In the early morning of May 25, 2003, I dressed my boys in the required red, white and blue, put “I Love Daddy” signs in their hands, wretched one last time and went to the airport. And after a very long Nine Months I no longer had to tell The Big Brother that NO, that man in a flight suit is NOT your Daddy. Daddy was no longer words in an e-mail, a voice on the phone, or a face on a video but he was here, in the flesh to kiss and to hug.
What a wonderful moment, the stars were aligned and the Angels were singing and a family was almost complete.
Then three days later the Gods smiled, and Angels rejoiced and all was right in our little corner of the world in this perfect moment, on a May Day, ten years ago. Happy Birthday Little Brother!
On this occasion we were very blessed but I do not forget those families who do not get this moment, of husbands, daddies, sons and daughters who do not come home. To those families, my prayers for peace and thank you for your strength as you made the ultimate sacrifice. May we always remember. Memorial Day – 2013