So hard to say "farewell"

Journal Entry 12 January 2011

Forgive me in advance for the randomness of my thoughts, but my intent is to capture as best as I can the daily occurrences over the coming months. I am currently mid-flight somewhere over the British Isles, enroute to Manas, Kyrgyzstan by way of Leipzig, Germany. The thought is just beginning to take hold in my mind, the thought that I am about to spend a year of my life fighting in Afghanistan. I use the term “fighting” rather loosely as I will spend the majority of my time planning operations and supervising their execution from the comfort of the Combat Operations Center. That said, I’ve got a rifle and pistol handy for those times when I do find myself out in “Indian” country.
The more looming idea that I struggle with is the thought that I am about to spend a year or more away from my family. The thought doesn’t just loom, it sits in the pit of my stomach like a rock. It has made me nautious the last few days, the thought that is. Don’t get me wrong, this is by no means our first rodeo. Over the course of my 21 year career, my bride and I have endured six deployments (now seven) and numerous other separations. For some reason this departure seemed harder to prepare for, mentally and emotionally. Maybe it’s because we’ve grown much closer over the last five years; maybe it’s the volatile nature of the situation in Afghanistan; or maybe it’s simply that a year is such a long freaking time.
What I do know is that Teresa will be our rock through this deployment, just as she’s always been. My bride has always been the glue that holds the Sablan clan together during these long separations. I was so proud of her yesterday when we said our farewells back at Camp Lejeune. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was fighting back the tears. It was a gut wrenching moment for both of us, but we managed to hold it together. I know she would have lost it otherwise, and I’m sure the kids would have too at that point. I think Teresa knew that; I think she knew her moment would have to wait.
We managed to keep our last few hours together pretty light hearted. Cami, our six year old princess, and Tony, our nine year old, were running around playing with each other. Our eleven year old, Sam, questioned the practicality of standing out in the bitter cold temperatures just to see me get on the bus. And Sal, the oldest of the bunch, remarked at how easy it was to recognize those families who had become accustomed to goodbyes and those who were new to this way of life. Our kids our funny that way. They’ve learned that life just happens, that sometimes it is what it is.
I think Teresa and I have done well by them in that regard. We’ve taught them that although they control much of their own destiny through their decisions and actions, there are some things that will happen as a function of living life. Hopefully they learn by our example. There are so many people around us who internalize every little thing or who thrive on having drama in their lives. We don’t do drama in our house, not in the Sablan family.
At any rate, the last few weeks leading up to this deployment, the quality time I was able to spend with Teresa and the kids was much needed. We took them on a six-day cruise out of Miami that ported in Cozumel, Grand Cayman, and Jamaica. It was our fourth family cruise in the last five years. The kids really enjoy the whole cruise experience, but not nearly as much as we enjoy watching them. They get to play all day, eat great food, and just enjoy being kids….End journal entry.