Wish I knew, but I don't

I was so looking forward to May 1st. As I went to bed last night I was psyched that this morning, May the 1st, I would FINALLY be able to say my husband would be home THIS MONTH!

Then I checked my email.

James sent me a message saying things are more up in the air with him than they had been. He no longer has any kind of estimate of when he'll be home, but I need to be prepared that he could get put on the trail flight, or worse, the "no joke" flight, which would be the last out of Kuwait.

That means early June, not mid May.

I know nothing is definite until he is on the plane, in the air, homeward bound. (BTW, I LOVE that movie!!!) I know that the end of a deployment can be as unsettling and emotionally exhausting as the beginning. I know that I should anticipate a roller coaster ride of emotions and accept that I can do nothing to change it so I might as well keep my chin up and continue 'soldiering on.'

And yet, that's easier said than done. When you've been without your partner, your lover, your best friend, for so long, all you want is to have them before you, able to reach out for their face, and feel them beside you, knowing the long separation has come to an end. Each day awaiting that reconnection is longer than the one before.

But I will endure. I will continue on. And if James is meant to be one of the last home then I'll accept it. After all, someone has to be on the last flight, right? Someone is always the first to go and someone has to be the last home. As long as he does come home that is all that should matter, right?

I need to remind myself of that over and over in the next few weeks whenever I feel myself slipping into a little pity-party. Other families only wish they would be so lucky as to see their soldier come home on the final flight.

Thank you to all of those who sacrificed it all. May you Rest in Peace and know that we are eternally grateful.