Trauma
I'm in the mall, keeping my sister-in-law company whilst she has her hair colored, when I get a DEVASTATING phone call from Brian.
His leave has been denied.
I have no words. No way to describe the agony. I feel like I'm in a greek tragedy. I need CPR, mouth to mouth, first aid, a hefty shot of adrenaline.
At first, I think,
So, I double-check. Kidding, he is not. I cry. I sob. I sink to a squatting fetal position in the Layton Hills mall.
People are walking by, their stares are more than intrusive. They're concerned, sure. I mean, I look like I've just been told my lungs are going to turn to stone in the next five minutes.
Brian has to go. He's going to try to "straighten this all out."
I've already absorbed the idea that I won't see him until FEBRUARY. I call my mother in law (Brian's step-mom). I can't explain why I called her first. She is just so compassionate. And she knows how to fix my problems. Not all of them. But the ones concerning Brian, usually. I think it's because she's married to Jim who is a LOT like Brian. Also, she grew up in the military. She calms me down, assures me that we will find SOME way to get me out to Mississippi. I stop sobbing.
When she has to go, I call my MY mom.
I tell her in my best "I need my mommy" voice the whole story about how Brian forgot to fill in TWO boxes on his form of leave-request. And that his chances were basically nill that he'd be home before February. She reassures me that she will help me find SOME way to get out there to see him... at least for our anniversary, if not Christmas. I stop crying again.
Well, my cell phone battery dies, so I am unaware that my mom-in-law has told Jim (Brian's dad) about all of this. Jim calls Brian up and lays into him for not filling out the form correctly. At least, that's how Brian describes it when I call him back using my sister-in-law's phone.
He tells me there's a chance he can get his leave back. Apparently, if a leader has any airmen staying behind on Christmas exodus, they tally up the totals. The leader with the most airmen has to work through Christmas exodus. So his leader wants to get him HOME.
He signs the leave-request form after Brian fills in the forgotten boxes and Brian's leave is back!
And then comes the silly married-life peevish anger.
Of course, I don't say it that mean. But the sentiment is there. Think, mother who just found her lost child, kind of frantic anger. I'm not really angry at him. But I was a bit annoyed at how worried he got me. And the fact that he blamed his dad's 15 minute convo on ME! Geesh!
At first, I think,
"What a terrible prank to play on a lovesick and LONELY woman!
My husband is the meanest old man in HISTORY!"
My husband is the meanest old man in HISTORY!"
So, I double-check. Kidding, he is not. I cry. I sob. I sink to a squatting fetal position in the Layton Hills mall.
People are walking by, their stares are more than intrusive. They're concerned, sure. I mean, I look like I've just been told my lungs are going to turn to stone in the next five minutes.
Brian has to go. He's going to try to "straighten this all out."
I've already absorbed the idea that I won't see him until FEBRUARY. I call my mother in law (Brian's step-mom). I can't explain why I called her first. She is just so compassionate. And she knows how to fix my problems. Not all of them. But the ones concerning Brian, usually. I think it's because she's married to Jim who is a LOT like Brian. Also, she grew up in the military. She calms me down, assures me that we will find SOME way to get me out to Mississippi. I stop sobbing.
When she has to go, I call my MY mom.
And the crying resumes.
I tell her in my best "I need my mommy" voice the whole story about how Brian forgot to fill in TWO boxes on his form of leave-request. And that his chances were basically nill that he'd be home before February. She reassures me that she will help me find SOME way to get out there to see him... at least for our anniversary, if not Christmas. I stop crying again.
Well, my cell phone battery dies, so I am unaware that my mom-in-law has told Jim (Brian's dad) about all of this. Jim calls Brian up and lays into him for not filling out the form correctly. At least, that's how Brian describes it when I call him back using my sister-in-law's phone.
He tells me there's a chance he can get his leave back. Apparently, if a leader has any airmen staying behind on Christmas exodus, they tally up the totals. The leader with the most airmen has to work through Christmas exodus. So his leader wants to get him HOME.
Yay leader!
He signs the leave-request form after Brian fills in the forgotten boxes and Brian's leave is back!
I get to see him for Christmas!
All joy is returned.
All joy is returned.
And then comes the silly married-life peevish anger.
You forgot to fill in a SILLY box!
No more important documents for you, Mister!
No more important documents for you, Mister!
Of course, I don't say it that mean. But the sentiment is there. Think, mother who just found her lost child, kind of frantic anger. I'm not really angry at him. But I was a bit annoyed at how worried he got me. And the fact that he blamed his dad's 15 minute convo on ME! Geesh!
Crisis averted.
I am my joyful self, once more.
I am my joyful self, once more.