Living on River Time

April 15th, 2014

We set out on a new chapter in our lives six years ago today. Wes joined the United States Air Force and left for Lackland, AFB and Basic Training on the 14th, and started his six-year contract on tax day.

It was emotional. It was challenging knowing that we wouldn’t be able to speak to one another except through the occasional letter and one phone call halfway through his eight weeks. I wrote him letters every day. He wrote me letters when he could. We both have terrible handwriting.

We were in a long distance relationship before he left. But this particular separation would be an important milestone in our relationship. The decision to stay together through his transition into the military and my transition into graduate school was important to us. It’s important to our story. It was a moment of dedication; a moment of conscious choice. 

We continued to choose one another through our various phases of our careers. Unlike so many of our friends and service members, we didn’t get married after basic training. We didn’t get married after his technical training, or right after he moved to his first duty station. He lived in the dorms, in Idaho. I lived in my studio apartment, in New Mexico. And for the first almost two years of his contract we lived apart – unmarried. Then, for the first three/four months of our marriage we lived in two different households, in two different states. It sucked. But we did it to make sure we were in a good place, and to make sure our families were in a good place. So, we waited.

It’s ironic now, that we find ourselves – six years after his initial contract date – in a strikingly similar position.

 

April 15th, 2020

In two days, Wes will receive the ever-coveted DD214. The piece of paperwork that basically says his original contract has terminated, and he is no longer an Active Duty service member. He has a beard. We have keys to our first house. A place of our very own – mortgage and all. I am living in a family rental home in Boise, Idaho. He is living in our home in Eagle River, Alaska. It sucks. But we are in a very good place, and we want to make sure our family and friends are in good places too. So here we sit and wait.

There are so many things happening in our world right now. It’s scary. Honestly. There is a lot of fear. There is a lot of uncertainty. I don’t have the answers for any of it.

As someone who has sat with fear and uncertainty before – as a military spouse – I can only say that what you are feeling right now is warranted.

I won’t tell you that sitting with these emotions is normal. I always hated hearing that as a military spouse because none of the situations that warrant these types of emotions are what I consider to be “normal.” I also believe that calling it “normal” diminishes the significance of the situation. It leaves room for dismissal – a reaction that isn’t helpful for anyone. You have a right, a reason, to feel the way you do. And that’s okay.

Sit with us. We will wait with you. You are not alone.

We look forward to all of the adventures to come in our home in Alaska. We look forward to our trek through Idaho, Montana, Canada, the Yukon territory, and the wilds of Alaska. We look forward to welcoming our friends and family to our new home.

In the meantime, take care of one another. Keep in touch. This chapter will end and make room for another. That’s the promise of time.

Everyone’s story and experiences are different.

We only hope that sharing ours allows for some peace and hope in your own.