“I have to say ‘see you later’ to my husband soon, and my heart already feels shattered.
For the past couple of months, we’ve been preparing for this dreaded day. You never truly feel ready, but you jump in anyway, doing your best to keep moving forward. Some days you wish time would slow to a standstill so you don’t have to face what’s coming. Other days, you want it to rush by so you can get through the goodbye and survive the ache of him leaving. You almost want it over before it begins, just to avoid the pain altogether.
My emotions are completely unpredictable. One moment I’m laughing hysterically with my husband, and the next I’m crying so hard I can barely breathe. The feelings come in waves—some gentle, others crashing down harder than I ever expect.
But the raw reality of your spouse leaving looks like this…
You have your spouse wear the same sweatshirt every day for a week before he leaves, so when you’re lying in bed sobbing, you can at least breathe in his scent and regain a little sanity. You spend holidays and birthdays alone. You pray the days go by quickly and the nights even faster. You dread weekends because that’s when you used to do everything together. You stay busy and fill your time, yet all you truly want is to feel his arms around you again. Every small forgotten task feels catastrophic because everything is harder without them. You always cook too much because they’re usually there to share dinner with you. You spill a cup of milk, sit on the floor, and cry—literally over spilled milk. And you refuse to watch sappy love stories because they only make you want to throw a shoe at the TV.
Then come the comments—my personal favorite—“You chose this” or “You knew what you were getting into.” The truth is, no one truly knows. I knew I loved him, and I knew I wasn’t walking away just because it would be hard. Yes, there are moments I wish things were different, but this is life, and life isn’t always easy. You take the good with the bad. As parents—any parents, not just military—you make sacrifices with limited control. Having a senior in high school is hard enough without uprooting them in the middle of it. Four years ago, I never imagined my family would be separated for a year. Was there a possibility? Of course. But it’s not something you think about every day. Sometimes circumstances are beyond our control, and we can’t just pack up and go, even if we desperately want to. Still, every day I get to be married to him is a blessing—whether we’re in the same country or not.
IT’S HIS JOB AND YOU KNEW THIS…
And yes, I know. I don’t judge or criticize families who choose differently or decide not to join the military. But at the end of the day, someone has to serve. Someone has to sign on the line to protect and defend us. My husband simply felt called to do his part. You would never tell a doctor or nurse, “You knew what you were getting into,” when they lose a patient. You wouldn’t minimize their pain because of their career. This is no different.
I am endlessly grateful for the men and women who serve. We need them. I am incredibly proud of my husband—but that pride doesn’t make the separation hurt any less.
I love my husband and my family more than life itself. So yes, I will be sad to say, “see you later.” If you can’t understand that, please scroll on. I don’t want sympathy—just understanding when I lock myself away for a few days. Your husband’s three-day business trip isn’t the same, but I still won’t judge you for missing him. It’s hard to be without the person you love, no matter the reason.
As time moves forward, minutes will turn into hours, hours into days, days into weeks, weeks into months, and eventually, months into a year—and then I’ll have my husband again. I’ll stay busy. It won’t all be sad. We’ll have incredible homecomings. Instead of dinner dates, we’ll have FaceTime dates. We’ll watch movies together through screens, still laughing and talking like always.
Life will go on, and so will we. We’ll keep working, volunteering, caring for our family, friends, and home. It’s okay to lock yourself away for a few days—just don’t stay there.
Before you say something, think about it. Everyone handles this differently. And ask yourself—would you say it to a child? “Well, you know what your parent does for a living.” Of course not. Or at least, I hope not.
And remember, when you think we did this to ourselves—someone has to. Without those who sign the oath, there would be no military. I do solemnly swear to support and defend the Constitution of the United States… Once that oath is taken, you follow orders. Whether it’s deployment, an unaccompanied tour, or TDY, being apart is never easy.
We need our military just as much as we need doctors, nurses, veterinarians, firefighters, police officers, sanitation workers, receptionists, fast food workers, bankers, clerks, linguists, and so many others.
So in the end, it’s simple—be kind. Everyone has a job to do. And mine just happens to be away for a year doing his. And I am damn proud that he is my husband.”
