Merry Christmas

I don't want to write this blog, but I'm going to. Not so I can emotionally vomit all over you, but because as I have learned particularly over the past year, pain and hardships numb and scar, and leave you thinking later they weren't as bad as they actually were. And Im not sure I want to be calloused. I need to remember how hard this is.
Christmas Eve... the kiddos open their presents for 'mama's Christmas' since Santa will be visiting them in Kansas, and we decided to have our own gift exchange prior. Lots of squealing, laughter, delight... all the bits of the merry holiday spirit to be expected, except this strange cloud hanging over the adult heads, because of whats starting, because of whats ending.
We headed to our favorite dining spot, Benihanas, where the Hibachi chefs whip up some fantastic Asian cuisine... and Jayvn can stuff himself full of steak and shrimp while Mys practices using her chopsticks with her dainty little pinky finger sticking out. A and I had a weird revelational moment that this was kind of a 'last supper' event for us. We chuckled at it, and the cloud grew slightly more dense. We went back to the house to pack some more, then over to Sgt K's for dinner, so the kids could all say goodbye. Heart wrenching... watching little ones realize they wont get to see each other again, watching them hug and wave... I managed to hold it together the whole day until that point. We went back home to finish packing, and it was a pretty slippery slope from there. I had to duck off into the bathroom a few times throughout the rest of the night to let out a sob and gain composure. I swore I wouldn't cry until after they left. How are they supposed to feel if I am a mess. Nope, no crying.
The ride to the airport was torture. I bit my cheeks til they bled. Jayvn said 'Mama... I just feel like Im never going to see you again.' I understand that children perceive situations in that way, but thoughts of premonition still flutter through my mind. A and I had a few moments of reminiscing, and thank yous between laughing and trying not to cry. I got them all checked in, and went to security, which is as far as you can go nowadays. Probably better that way, I dont think I could have handled watching them board the plane.
So at 1am on Christmas day, I squat down to kiss my children for the last time for 14 months. When I left for basic training last year, I left in the middle of the night, kissed their sleeping faces and snuck out the door... they knew I was going, but didnt understand what that meant... so it was just me that had to deal. This time, they get it. They both had big alligator tears streaming down their faces, and Jayvn was asking one more time 'How long is a year?' The last thing he said was 'I miss you already...' and Mys just put her teary head down and fell into my arms. Then it was time for them to go, their daddy took their hands and pulled them away. They looked over their shoulders, Mysteri screaming 'I love you mama' over and over, and Jayvn just looking at me like I was already dying. A was trying to be strong, even though he's terrified of the plane, anxious of starting his life over without me, and aching for his children.
I had all intentions of reaching the car before throwing a fit, but only made it about 5 steps and I couldnt hold it anymore. All the merry happy people in the airport loving life and celebrating Christmas blatantly stared at me sobbing and snotting all over myself as I tried to find my way out. I wanted to scream at them. And, like a horror film, the fucking Christmas music blared in my ears the whole way.
So here I sit. Alone. Something I haven't been in 10 years. But its not sad, its deserved. I chose this. I signed the dotted the line. And when Im doing my job, I know its worth it. But when Im kissing them goodbye, I know its not. So which is it? I dont know. I guess it depends on their personalities and if this will prove to be detrimental to them, and it depends on the outcome of the war. I dont feel like I know anything right now, except that Im leaving for a year, after I just spent 8 months of this year gone in training. That this year will be immensely different. Sgt K says its just this hard because its my first deployment. Somehow, I dont think leaving your children should ever get easier. I dont think having to wonder how tall they will be, what they will sound like, what they will have learned, who their friends will be, if this is going to ruin their lives... or even if I'll get to find out... is something to grow accustomed to. So yes, its hard. My heart is broken. And while I believe in this Army and will do what has to be done, it needs to remain this hard... I hope goodbye hurts this much every time.
I can do this, I will. For anyone that has, or is, or will... or has been on the other side... thanks for showing me that it is even possible. But I cant speak for my children. If you know them, Im begging you to help them through... just love them while Im gone.