in which we say goodbye

and then the day came.  it was not fun.  not knowing if you will see your spouse ever again is a horrible horrible feeling and i know you have to think positive blah blah blah but the fear is real.  the actual leaving day was only rivaled by the day I came home in April to a stack of three "if something happens to me" letters sitting on the table - I know it's necessary.  we do it every time.  you try to intellectualize and compartmentalize as you go through the paces of preparing the will and all of the other stuff but it still makes me want to sob and vomit every time.

departure day is a very complex amalgam of fear, anxiety, sorrow.  it's not fun.  and like Philip has always said "the first night is the hardest."  we spent the day at BWI - great to have the day together (though spending a few hours in airport lines was not fun) but also kind of hard.  we went to Andrews in the morning, weapons were issued and we headed to the airport.  that night i pulled it together, drove home (amazingly not sobbing). i drove home, the beginnings of summer night wind whipping through the windows and as i pulled onto the interstate I listened to Pink singing "Just Give Me A Reason" --- in that moment she was right on - I felt bent but I knew I would not break.