Embracing the suck

There's not much in this world that hurts my heart more than watching my husband pack for deployment. He checks and double checks his packing list to be sure he has everything the Army says he needs. Each time he walks away to find something else, I secretly stuff another note in his gear, hoping that when he finds it, it might brighten one of the long days ahead of him.

Then there's MY packing list. I need to make sure he has everything I think he will need... Are there enough things in his bag to remind him of home when he's had a hard day? Did I pack Cale's toy for Daddy to snuggle? Photos?

The week before and week after he leaves are the toughest... And there are moments in there that are almost impossible to survive. It's so hard to smile when your heart is breaking, but that's my job. I have to pull myself together and be strong for my two guys. The memory of the last time he sees us will set the tone for this deployment, and I refuse for that memory to be of me bawling my eyes out and clinging to him. He needs that memory to be of Cale and I being strong and proud, full of love and support so that he can focus on his mission.

Duty is defined as a moral or legal obligation. A responsibility.

My husband serves this country because it's his duty. My duty is to support, love and wait for him to come home, and that means embracing the suck. So I take a deep breath, let it out and move forward, knowing that each day that passes brings me one day closer to his arms.

But it still sucks.