Merry Christmas, friends

This year's holiday season is bittersweet. While I am ecstatic to see my friends and family, I am reminded that my husband is far from home. This is our first Christmas as a married couple, and we are apart. My Christmas day, however, was wonderful! The magical morning started with instant messages from Matt, followed by presents with family, Christmas Day Mass, dinner at Aberdeen Barn, Harry Potter 7.1, and at the end of evening he called from down range. The true magic of the season was present in my family's home... and then it began to snow. As you know, I think snow is beautiful. What a wonderful Christmas. I can't wait to do it all again when he comes home. 

Merry Christmas, friends! Special thanks to all those dedicated to service and are therefore separated from their loved ones this holiday season. God bless.

The Last Thirty Seconds

Each time an unusual phone number appears on my caller ID I become anxious and overjoyed at the thought that it could be my husband. I mute my surroundings immediately - it makes no matter to me if it is technological, animal, or human - any and all noise ceases. I take a deep breath and answer with a simple "Hello". My heart soars when I hear his familiar, loving, and tired voice make its way across the world and to my ear. For the next however many minutes I am the luckiest girl alive, nothing can bring me down from my happy place, and I feel so overwhelmingly at peace to know he is safe and happy. The conversation is flooded with laughter and questions and constant reminders of "I love you" - as if we could have forgotten. We talk about anything and everything we can during the brief moments we have together. The topics range but are never heavy; talk of home is nostalgic and hopeful as we talk of homecoming plans and upcoming milestones. There is almost always mention of the puppy and how big he has become, along with less popular talk of puppy poops and chew toy crises. It doesn't really matter what we talk about, it only matters that we talk, that we get to share those moments.

But, no matter what the conversation, the last thirty seconds are always the hardest part. This is the part of the conversation filled with sadness smothered by upbeat talk of "I'll talk to you again soon". The moments of held back tears and blowing kisses through the phone. Time seems to slow and I reluctantly allow "Goodbye" to pass my lips; my heart beat becomes irregular, I feel myself become warm, and I swallow the tears I know will follow the phone call. That is the part of the conversation I dread most. I feel myself physically change as the conversation draws to a close. Do I allow my emotions to leak through the phone? Of course not. He doesn't need to hear me cry, he knows I miss him terribly and that I cry in his absence. He needs me to be strong. He needs me to love him. He needs me to say "Goodbye, I love you" at the end of those damned thirty seconds. And I do.

Let it Snow!

I can count on one hand the number of winters I have seen snow in my lifetime. That, my friends, is going to change. Life in the North Country has proven itself worthy of thoughtful preparation and persistent Google-ing. I talk with everyone I meet about the best ways to drive in snow, park in snow, walk in snow - live in snow. I chose two specific priorities: 1.) train the puppy that it is OK to poop without grass and 2.) learn to shovel the entire driveway without a break in less than 30 minutes. I am proud to say that I have mastered these two tasks - not bad, if I may say so. Now, that doesn't make me a pro but it does make me feel more confident whilst surrounded by this foreign white, powdery stuff that seems to accumulate without ceasing. Around here, they told me that I wouldn't see green again until April... little did they know that the puppy loves to dig and he finds grass for me on a daily basis! So there, Old Man Winter!

But, if I may for a moment whisper you a secret: snow is beautiful. As I shoveled the walk and driveway last night, I couldn't help but stand in awe of the wondrous landscape created before my eyes with each falling flake.  I was tempted to throw myself onto the fresh powder and make snow angels (but thought better of it because the temperature was single digits). I brought the pup outside and he thrust his entire head into the snow and turned to me with, what must be, the greatest impression of Old Man Winter - his fluffy white beard made of fresh snow. I couldn't help but smile.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Sunday, Fun Day

Today started bright and early with daily happenings as usual. Wake up. Roll over. Stretch. Breakfast with the pup. Brisk walk around the block. Kennel. And then Church. After Mass I returned home, gathered the ingredients for chili, and got my dog ready for a puppy play date with my new friend and her lovely mutts. The afternoon, although cold and dreary outside, was full of warmth and sharing, friendship and laughter. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and so did the pup - trust me, he hasn't had the opportunity to run and play with other dogs for a few months... he was in heaven. This is even further proved by the long and peaceful slumber that followed our return home. My afternoon was chock full of good food, interesting tales, and even a home improvement experience - all the makings of a solid friendship. I am so glad to have made a friend and I look forward to many more Sunday, fun days. I hadn't a clue what was in store this afternoon, but because I have come to embrace this newfound and somewhat often occurrence of occasional uncertainty I am better for it.

Surviving Deployment: A Beginner's First Attempts

I am not an expert on the subject of deployment; however, I am an expert when it comes to loving my husband. This is the only reason that I will survive this deployment. Not because I am smart or strong or confident (although those things will certainly help), but because I love my husband - that is why I will survive this deployment. It seems ridiculous but I believe it to be my source of strength these past few days. I have no experience with this - absolutely none. I am in a new place with only my dog as my constant companion. I am also madly in love with my husband. He told me that my tears break his heart, and to think that I will be sad in his absence is awful. So, I made him a promise: I will not feel sorry for myself; I will smile often and laugh out loud; I will continue to love him with all that I am. This is my mission while he is away. I will find strength in myself. I will enrich my life with wonderful and beautiful moments. I will smile often and remember that I am truly blessed. And, when all else fails I will remind myself that weaker people have overcome greater obstacles. This is my mission.