Insights into the Life of a Navy Wife, Part II

Wives, think of your husbands. Think of all the reasons why you love him: because he makes you laugh, because he keeps you warm at night, because he listens to you complain about your awful day, because he sends the mortgage payment every month, because he stops by the store for diapers on his way home from work no matter how tired he is, because he knows how to touch you in all the right ways and in all the right places, because he watches the kids so you can take a bubble bath, because he grills the hamburgers and hot dogs just the way you like them, because he always takes your side in an argument with your mom, because he discusses the Sunday sermon with you on your way home from church, because he tells you you’re not fat and actually makes you believe it, because he fixes the kitchen sink when it’s clogged, because he motivates and inspires you to do more and be better. Now imagine if one day he just disappeared. What would you do? How would you cope? Could you get out of bed every day and be the same happy, confident, optimistic, productive person that you were before?

Navy wives love their husbands for all the same reasons and we must do just that.

 In a matter of days the USS Enterprise will deploy. She will pull out of the harbor and leave in her wake thousands of Navy wives, who will stand on the pier, wave good-bye, wipe the tears from their eyes, give their children hugs and tell them that Daddy will be home soon, then drive back to empty houses to face their grim husbandless realities. We will all struggle to find a way to continue being us without our other halves. Making this change is not easy and like any change, it does not happen overnight; it is a process.

Step 1: Denial

At first, we simply deny it. Embracing the truth cannot prevent the pain. The ship’s departure is inevitable. We might as well refuse to accept it for as long as possible and hope to squeeze as much happiness out of our days as we can.

Step 2: Depression

Pretty soon after our sailors leave, reality begins to set in. Everywhere we turn there are reminders of our husbands’ absences. Here at our home, Josie heard the dogs barking at a car driving by and said, “Daddy is home!” I had to explain that it wasn’t him because he was working on his ship. A few days later I was folding the laundry and found a pair of James’ jeans that were the last pair he wore at home before leaving. It was hard to fold them and put them in his drawer knowing that I wouldn’t fold another pair of his pants for a long, long time. And just today I was browsing through our DVR and deleting the programs I’d already watched to make room for new ones. I stopped for a moment, thinking to myself that James would want to see them first. Then it hit me- he won’t be home to watch them anytime soon. All of these things brought me to tears.

During this time, the logistical complications of running a household alone also begin to rear their ugly head. The kids need caring for, bills need paying, the budget needs balancing, appliances need fixing, and snow needs shoveling. Everyday tasks, that were once do-able, become daunting. We wonder how we’re going to do it all.

The most depressing part, though, is the emotional and physical loneliness. With our husbands gone we no longer have a partner to bounce ideas off of or confide secrets in. For me, the hardest part these past few weeks has been facing this loneliness in the evenings, after the kids have gone to bed. The house is too dark, too quiet, and too much of a reminder that I am on my own from here on out.

The physical loneliness begins to take its toll as well. We miss having someone to kiss good night, we miss laying our heads on someone’s shoulder to cry, we miss having someone to scratch that itch in the middle of our backs. And yes, we miss sex too. After all, we’re only human.

Step 3: Acceptance

There finally comes a day when the dark cloud of mourning lifts and we feel ready to face the challenge ahead. We must make a conscious decision to make the most of our time, regardless of the sadness. Inside every good Navy wife there is an undeniable inner strength that enables her to thrive under the most difficult of circumstances (The source of this strength? Well, that’s a whole post in itself).

Step 4: Adjustment

We eventually change our daily routines and habits to compensate for being husbandless. We buy fewer groceries and learn to cook for one less person. We start sleeping in the middle of the bed and cuddling with the extra pillows. We become accustomed to taking all the kids with us everywhere we go. And, most importantly, we learn to lean more on our family and rely more on our friends.

So, where am I? I think I’m stuck somewhere between Step 2 and Step 3- almost ready to push forward but haven’t fully emerged from the darkness. So if I seem a little ‘out of sorts,’ a little needier than usual, and a little more prone to emotional outbursts, then I am truly sorry. It’s all a part of the process.