Our Story #7: An R&R Anniversary

{the final and 7th part in a 7-part series on my journey of love, with Al by my side}

(Photos aren't working, but I really wanted to post this now. I will re-post when Blogger lets me get the photos up.)

Less then three months into his deployment, Al was informed he'd be taking his R&R early. Really early. I'm sure most of you know that the married guys and dads, especially those expecting, get first dibs on R&R dates and tend to choose ones as close to half-way as possible.

Which leaves the singles with the R&R dates at the beginning and end of deployment.

It actually worked out pretty well for us because we got to be together for our (official) one-year anniversary.

One of our R&R weekends, we headed out to the farm to spend time with his parents and siblings. His sister had gotten married the summer earlier and her husband and her were trying to conceive. They had some trouble and stopped trying for awhile. That weekend we all went out to see the DJ Chopper at a local bar. It was a great time!

Chopper has a 57 Chevy as his DJ booth, so people can get up on it and dance.

We ended up drinking, dancing and shutting the bar down.

A few months later we got a "thank you" call and the night was re-dubbed "the night of conception." They are expecting a boy in November.

The one in the middle is the proud mama!

Since I had school to focus on, Al got to spend ample time with his dad helping with things at the farm and enjoying his friends from back home. It was nice to let him do his own thing and me do mine and still come home to each other to share our days.

We spent some time with my sister and friends where I went to college. And we had plenty of dinners with friends and family. All-in-all, it was a great R&R.

Our last weekend before he left happened to be our Anniversary. We still wanted to do something special, so we booked a hotel and dinner downtown and got dolled up.

I remember how good dinner was, but I couldn't tell you a single thing I ordered. What I do recall is the dessert - that delicious and amazing red velvet cake!

The next day was his last in town, so we met his family for a little dinner celebration and spent the night in a hotel near the airport so myself and his parents could see him off in the morning.

I got a pass to enter security and wait at the gate with him this time. Thankfully it was virtually no hassle. So we grabbed bagels and coffee and curled up by his gate while we waited.

We laughed and hugged a bit.

Mostly, we sat in silence, with me curled up in his arm-crease, chewing on my bagel.

He sat there and ran his fingers over my arm again and again. Every once in a while he stopped to kiss my forehead.

And then it was time.

I didn't cry. At least not in front of him.

I walked away and the tears started coming. By the time I got to my car, I was bawling.

(I don't think he knows this, but I had to turn around and go back to our chairs. I'd forgotten my jacket. I was worried he'd see that I had started crying so I hung back until I knew he wasn't in line anymore before I grabbed it. Oh, I KNOW it's completely ridiculous but...)

But I didn't cry in front of him.

I'm not sure why, but that was really important to me.

I wanted him to remember a face of resilience and strength; love, trust and support.

I didn't want him to see weakness or have any reason to worry about me.

I pulled out of the parking lot and over along the fence line at the airport. I sat there watching planes take off, listening to various songs that make me cry or smile. By the time 30 minutes passed, I was calm.

Now I reflect on that day and realize just how great it really was. I woke up next to my best friend and the most amazing man I know. He quietly showered, trying hard to let me sleep some more (like I could!) I watched him pack his sack and get into uniform. He hugged his parents and said his good-byes. Even though we both knew of the upcoming separation and how hard it would be, we were just happy to have that morning together.

It was just us. Saying good-bye.

On Valentines Day.

(Sure we try not to celebrate it, and we try to avoid giving it much meaning, but I'll be damned if it doesn't sneak in anyway. Perhaps this falling on V-day is the "perfect" thing for our anti-v-day souls!)

Valentines Day is now, for us, the day we said good-bye. Again.