By: Paige
Jeremiah and I met when I was in the fifth grade, he in the sixth, at the bus stop in front of my house. When I first saw that goofy, big eared boy I thought to myself “what a dork”. Who knew that years later we would be married, and he would the best friend I could ever ask for. Jeremiah became a Marine before we started dating, we started talking more and became extremely close during his first deployment, I knew when I fell for him that there were going to be a few obstacles that stood in our way, but I knew how much I cared about him and I wasn’t planning on letting those tiny obstacles bring us down.
July 4th, 2009
Independence Day – I wake up, check my phone – no emails, no voicemails – but still I check my computer any way in hopes to see Skype blinking orange, and low and behold it is. “One new conversation,” it reads. I get so excited; I know it is from him. I throw on my glasses, so anxious to read the message only to read, “I have bad news, I will talk to you about it more later.” My heart drops; I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do or what to say but to respond back with a simple: “Okay, I love you,” for him to read whenever he gets online again.
My computer does not leave my side; I take it with me to eat breakfast, on the thousands of trips I make to the bathroom – everywhere I go.
Finally a few hours after I read the original message, I see his Skype name appear to be online. I immediately attack him with questions, knowing I shouldn’t, that I should just let him tell me at his own pace. “What’s the bad news?” “How long are you extending for?” “You’re getting sent to Afghanistan aren’t you?” Finally he responds, “I’m not coming home early. We are getting sent to another base. I won’t be able to communicate with you often and there is no way I will be able to come home for Faith’s birth or watch it on Skype like we planned.” My heart sinks, I can’t help but start crying hysterically.
.JPG)
We talk for a few more hours about everything that is going on, how I am doing, how I am feeling, how he is doing, how Faith (our unborn daughter) is doing; the same daily conversations we have been having for the past few months that we will only be having for a few more days or weeks. I tell him about how last night Faith was kicking up a storm and wouldn’t stop for anything, how she kicked my mom in the face when my mom was kissing my stomach goodnight, how I barely slept because I kept having to get up to pee.
We talk about how much we miss each other, plans we have for when he comes home, again the same topics that soon we will not be able to discuss. I continue to lie to him and tell him I am okay and that him going to this new base will be good for him because he won’t be bored and it will be a change of scenery, when really I am breaking inside. I am so used to being able to talk to him every day, how am I going to go days or weeks without hearing his voice?
He finally tells me, “Well baby, I have to go. I gotta get up early so I need to hit the rack,” the sentence I dread hearing every day. I hate saying bye to that boy, so instead we end the conversation with, “Peace out home fry,” and, “See ya later punk.” It’s a little easier that way but it’s still hard.
By this time it is 4 pm. I go out in the living room discuss with my mom the information I was told, cry a little, then decide that I need to suck it up and continue with my day. So I get all dressed up in my Fourth of July outfit trying to be a moto as I can, because I am an extremely proud Marine wife, only to do nothing. I am 6 months pregnant and it is 95 degrees outside, how do I expect to sit outside in this heat to watch some fireworks? So I sit on my computer talking to friends on Facebook and Myspace, and receiving support from girls on MSOS. If it wasn’t for those girls I would be a complete mess everyday of the week.
It’s now around 9:30 pm and fireworks have started. I go in the backyard in hope to catch a glimpse of a few fireworks from the show downtown. I sit with my mom talking about how Jeremiah is missing this and how we hope he had a good Independence Day and how we can’t wait until he is home safe and sound. We wait until we see the very last firework go off and head back inside. We sit on the couch together watching Roseanne. My mom desperately trying to cheer me up, is making jokes and being her normal goofy self.
.jpg)
A few hours later I head to bed, hoping tomorrow will be a better day, hoping tomorrow isn’t the day he leaves for that base, that I will get to talk to him again. I plug in my phone, turn the volume up, make sure my computer is plugged in and the volume is up on that as well. I adjust all of my pillows in hopes that I can actually get comfortable, tell my little girl that I love her and that her daddy is going to be safe and neither of us can wait to meet her, and I fall fast asleep.
One more night down of sleeping alone: one more night closer to being back in his arms where I belong.
Paige
