Another Christmas and yet you are gone, across the ocean, serving our country.
We knew this was a part of the deal, and yet, that doesn’t make it any easier. You are gone, away from us, and all we want for Christmas is you.
As the days get closer to the 25th, my heart feels a little less thrilled with the idea that we are so far away from one another. There is something about this holiday, more than any other, that you should be home for. And yet I know, the military doesn’t work like that. Life doesn’t work like that.
I know as a military spouse, just because I want them to be home doesn’t mean they will be. Just because I think they should be home, doesn’t mean they can be. I have to go with the flow, even if that flow hurts.
As I set up the Christmas tree, I can’t help but hold back a tear. I can’t help but think about the year before when you were here for all this. When you were right by my side as we decided on where each ornament should go.
As I set up the Christmas tree, I think about how hopefully you will be with us next year, and the year after, and the one after that. I hope and pray you never have to be over there during Christmas again. But how realistic is that type of prayer?
As I start to buy presents for our young children, I think about how you won’t be there to see them open them. To see the joy on their faces, and hear them laugh and get excited about Christmas morning.
I think about how I will make sure to record everything so that you don’t miss a thing, but you will anyway. That is just how it is. A million photos never make up for being there, no matter how many you take.
I think about how on Christmas Eve, it will just be me getting everything together. It will just be me putting the kids to bed in their cute Christmas PJs, and just me making sure the cookies and milk are out for Santa. It will just be me pouring some eggnog and watching a Christmas movie late into the night.
We will be missing you on Christmas.
As a military family, we have missed you so many times over the years. You have missed birthdays and anniversaries, and all the little things that make life special. And yet, I can’t help be feel like this is the road we have to be on. That you are a soldier, and I choose to follow you, even if it meant a Christmas away from you. Even if it meant missing you.
I think about how much you have given to this country. And how much more you will give. There will be more times apart, and more Christmases spent in different time zones.
But as I think about missing you on Christmas, I also think about how we can get through this, just like we have before.
You won’t be here for Christmas day, but we will be thinking of one another all the same. That is what we military families do. That is all we can really do when we are hit with missing each other so much.
Christmas won’t be the same, it can’t be, you are not here. But Christmas can still be special and we can still make some memories.
We are missing you on Christmas, as you are missing us. But we will get through this time apart. We always do and make it to the other side.
Vicki Terrinoni
I had two Christmases without my hubby. The first one was the hardest because we were in Fairbanks, Alaska and the kids were young. Too far to go home and it was dark and cold and lonely.