I woke up at 6 a.m. yesterday. Well actually, P woke up to nurse around that time and I couldn’t fall back asleep. But I decided to get up and do some work around the house and blog so I could devote all of my attention to the hubs and the babies later. I made a coffee, fed the cat, turned on Pandora, and sat down to write.
And then all of these songs started coming on my Pandora station (James Morrison) that reminded me of… other things.
Adele. I listened to her album on my iPod the entire Mega Bus ride to Chicago while Z was deployed. My cousin and I went to visit my other cousin while I was pregnant and took the Mega Bus. I remember feeling her album; I felt every word she was singing and although I wasn’t passionate about a breakup like she was, I was passionate about love. I missed my husband and I wanted for him to so badly be there with me. Rubbing my belly as the baby kicked for the first time. Or at least wanted the ability to pick up the phone and call him if I was having a bad day.
I don’t think about the first deployment often. It was a very scary time in both of our lives. He was taking direct fire daily and I was waiting by my phone. Waiting to hear his voice or waiting to hear bad news. I never stopped worrying; it was my reality for 281 days straight. He was missing my entire pregnancy and only saw my belly and ultrasound photos from halfway across the world.
We talked about it the other night for the first time in awhile. I started asking him questions and he answered them. I said that I wished I could have been there to see what he was going through. And he simply responded “no you don’t”. I think I forget what he went through sometimes. He was luckily unaffected by war and deployment, and I thank God for that everyday. Because we have a ton of friends and I know a ton of soldiers who struggle with the things they saw and did over there.
But it doesn’t mean it didn’t affect him. In some way, his life was changed over there. As a wife, you want to be supportive and be there for them when they need it. If they want to talk about it, you do. If they don’t, you don’t.
I know everything that happened over there. In fact when we were in New York, our friends would start drinking and it was like the alcohol gave the stories had the freedom to roll off their tongues. Sometimes there were tears and other times it was a celebration. Sometimes I needed to leave the room and sometimes I listened. And as hard as it was for everyone involved, it’s a part of our lives that we can’t forget and that will be forever engrained in us.
I almost lost him. And as much as I want to know more about what happened that day, I don’t. I close my eyes and picture the incident and it hurts. It hurts to know he was so far away and I couldn’t do anything about it. It hurts to know he lost comrades that day. It hurts to know he will never forget that day and it’s something that I will never, ever understand.
Music has a healing power. On days when I missed him, I would turn on our favorite songs and close my eyes. Sometimes I would cry and other times it would bring a sense of peace over me. And as I sit here and think back to all the times, and songs, I heard while he was gone, it reminds me of how lucky I am to have him back. That it may be hard to listen to certain songs sometimes, or talk about certain things, but the fact of the matter is he’s here. All of that is in the past and he’s here in the present…and forever my future. And I am forever thankful.
Do certain songs remind you of your past? Does music stir up memories for you?