I've been thinking a lot about you leaving tomorrow. I've been crying a lot more than usual, but I wouldn't say I've cried a lot. I feel like the last couple of weeks have flown by faster than I could have imagined possible. It seemed like we had more than enough time to do everything we wanted or needed. Where did it all go?
I know you will be fine, if a little lonely. I want you to know that we, who you are leaving behind, will be fine, too. I'm glad that you worry because it means that you care.
I've also been thinking a lot about my hair. Without any vanity at all, it simply has to be just so. I wonder if I have romanticized convenience. Am I just convincing myself so that I can claim to be a supportive wife? I don't think so, but I am sometimes blind when it comes to my relationship with you.
My thoughts have been contradictory in many ways. I almost feel dishonest when I explain to people my reasons behind the cut. "It's a sign of solidarity and support while he is gone." This is true, but it's not the entire truth. I did it for many reasons. Solidarity. Support. Simplicity. Laziness (I hate making hair appointments). To be honest, I was tired of the red already. Shaving off the dye-job was easier than the two or three hair appointments it would take to get it all cut off inch-by-inch. And, frankly, I wanted to see if I could pull it off.
It is more than that, too. It is like I removed a part of my identity when we shaved it all off, while at the same time I reinforced my individuality. If it was possible to hide behind a 2 to 3-inch hair-style, I was doing it. "Hey, look, I'm a rebel! I spike my hair every day! I even dyed it blue once! I'm not your typical LDS mom! Woohoo! Look at me, I'm awesome!" By shaving it off, I stripped away the camouflage and proudly declared myself an Army wife. (You see what I did there?)
When people thank you for your service, it makes me feel proud of you. When they thank me for mine, I feel a fraud. But why? We do both serve in our own way. I have been overwhelmed with the words of strangers.
I feel that I will mourn you in a way while you are gone. Perhaps I am finally truly understanding how someone can mourn and be proud at the same time.
This is my black veil and my yellow ribbon.
This blog is the candle in the window.
The life, love and joy of your family waiting for you at home is the light left on.
Yours,
Girly
