Leaving my husband is overwhelming. The emotions of the whole deal flow like waves. Sometimes they are crashing, sometimes they are slow. One moment everything is fine and dandy, the next minute I feel like I’m out of my mind.

It all started a year ago when I took the necessary steps to satisfy FAA regulations to become current as a helicopter pilot. After graduation from flight school in 2010 the job market was dismal and my career never launched. Most of my friends weathered the storm and are now comfortably seated on the middle of the proverbial ladder. However, I was a single woman with a mortgage. My reality at the time just was not flexible and I refused to abandon my house.

Refusing to let a very expensive education go to waste, I decided to get back into recreational flying. It was at that time that the owner of the flight school I attended told me about an opportunity in the Midwest to get my foot back in the door. I could work for basically nothing, long hours like a dog on the ground crew of a tour company in hopes of being picked up as a poorly paid full-time pilot the following year.

Generally helicopter positions turn over in the early spring and it was already into summer when I learned about this opportunity. I knew there was no way I could wait almost an entire year to become employed. I was graduating from college and students loans would soon be due. I had definitely given up the dream of being a professional helicopter pilot.

Well, as it happens I couldn’t find employment to save my life and here we are back in early spring. After a whirlwind trip to visit the owner and his operation and answer some illegal questions regarding my age and marital status, I was offered a position. Now I have got a lot to do and a lot to take in, all in a matter of a few weeks. We helicopter pilots call it “living the dream.”

Until now I haven’t known when I was leaving, I’ve known for more than a month that I am leaving and that was all fine and dandy so long as it was a distant thought and not a dated reality. We worked like crazy to get my dream patio fire pit installed so that I could enjoy it for a few weeks. Then I thought that I would have time to just relax and enjoy my time in my home with my family.

We planned this for a year. There was no way I was leaving without seeing it completed.
We planned this for a year. There was no way I was leaving without seeing it completed.

A few weeks ago my whole mentality changed. The rumor mill was spinning. It churned out whispers of an early season start. I had just dropped my husband off at the airport for a week without so much as a hug goodbye. Suddenly every moment was precious. God knows I hate that man sometimes, and most of the time he does everything completely wrong. But when he gets it right, he gets it so right and I don’t care to live without him. Now I have to. He will be able to visit a few times, but I’m leaving my beloved home, family and life for at least 5 months. This cycle will repeat itself for a number of years until I qualify for a commutable job where I will work 2 weeks on 2 weeks off.

The to-do list is overwhelming and my words have been less than gracious as I try to navigate making all the needed preparations to have a second household. We had to buy a second car and the aftermarket leather I just paid a lot of money for looks truly horrible. Plus the car needs some suspension work done unless I care to lose a tire in the near future. Obviously this work is going to cost twice what I anticipated because this is life!

Additionally, my husband is a member of the Navy’s elite civilian squad of garbage-men. There is seriously less security at nearby nuclear research facilities and reactors than there is at the facility my husband works at. He has no internet, no access to the outside world from 5:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. except the 2 hours a day they are allowed access to either CNN or Fox News to keep them abreast of any calamity that might be happening outside their compound. Therefore he is no help to me. I came unhinged when USAA wouldn’t even give me so much as a quote for renter’s insurance without my husband calling in first. I can’t have a quick lunch with my husband and say hello during the day because he is an hour away by bus. When he comes home he does freelance work to pay for my freeloading butt and because I will be underemployed for a number of years yet, he has no choice but to continue to work on the side.

I mentioned that he does most things all wrong. This is one of those things that he does so right that it blows my mind. He wants me to fly helicopters. He and his colleagues are nuclear engineers, but what I do is somehow much more fascinating. My husband was writing a program in bed last night to solve complex math equations for no other reason than to “relax”. He could tell me to go get a temporary job until I can find a local position with a much faster pay off, but he doesn’t care about that. He says he always thought the plan was for me to fly. He was never sure why I deviated from that plan in the first place. I guess I just always assumed that I needed to make enough money up front to pay for my rather expensive education myself.

My husband is not the man of my dreams. My wildest imagination couldn’t have fathomed such a man. I dreamed of a man that I deserved, not any better. The good Lord blessed me with better though.

It’s going to be a long number of years. I am painfully aware of the fact that my dogs are getting older and I will be gone for at least half of the rest of their lives. Their daddy is going to take amazing care of them, but I’m going to miss watching that happen. I won’t get to see all the things that my husband does everyday that makes me smile and fills my heart with gratitude that he is mine. I won’t get to bust him researching plants for his garden when he is supposed to be working. I won’t be able to over-eat by thousands of calories and then blame him for not supporting me in my weight management goals. I’m gonna miss this guy.

I was fearless before meeting my husband. While I have always had a strong will to live, I never feared death. Now death is my greatest fear. I don’t want to be without my husband or the family we have. Heaven is forever, but this beautiful life is fleeting and I hope for many long years together.

Seriously, how do you military wives and widow’s get through it? God bless you all because you are a lot tougher than I am.

Read more about my story here.

[adrotate banner=”81″]

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Adrienne Jones

Adrienne Jones is a clueless newlywed trying to navigate adulthood. While she has been "playing" grownup for more than a decade,she realizes she really doesn't know much of anything about anything especially men. She is a hopeless dog-lover with two beautiful rescues called Maverick and Goose. As it turns out, they are hopelessly devoted to their daddy, and with good cause because he spoils them rotten. As a family hobby the Jones' open their home to foster various dogs waiting for a new start. Conveniently located in the west, the family lives for adventure and basks in the glory of all that God created through hiking and camping. Professionally Adrienne feels like a bonified member of the Island of Misfits. She has a degree in Emergency Management and is a licensed helicopter pilot. Over-educated and unemployed, she is living the American dream. http://www.idrathereatacookie.com

I Thought Our Friendship Would Be Unbreakable

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Two friends selfie

The message notification pinged on my phone. A woman, once one of my best friends, was reaching out to me via Facebook. Her message simply read, “Wanted to catch up and see how life was treating you!”  I had very conflicting feelings. It seemed with that one single message, a flood of memories surfaced. Some held some great moments and laughter. Other memories held disappointment and hurt of a friendship that simply had run its course. Out of morbid curiosity, I clicked on her profile page to see how the years had been treating her. She was divorced and still...

Keep Reading

The First 10 Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking

In: Journal, Marriage, Relationships
The First Ten Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking www.herviewfromhome.com

We met online in October of 2005, by way of a spam email ad I was THIS CLOSE to marking as trash. Meet Single Christians! My cheese alert siren sounded loudly, but for some reason, I unchecked the delete box and clicked through to the site. We met face-to-face that Thanksgiving. As I awaited your arrival in my mother’s kitchen, my dad whispered to my little brother, “Hide your valuables. Stacy has some guy she met online coming for Thanksgiving dinner.” We embraced for the first time in my parents’ driveway. I was wearing my black cashmere sweater with the...

Keep Reading

To The Mother Who Is Overwhelmed

In: Inspiration, Motherhood
Tired woman with coffee sitting at table

I have this one head. It is a normal sized head. It didn’t get bigger because I had children. Just like I didn’t grow an extra arm with the birth of each child. I mean, while that would be nice, it’s just not the case. We keep our one self. And the children we add on each add on to our weight in this life. And the head didn’t grow more heads because we become a wife to someone. Or a boss to someone. We carry the weight of motherhood. The decisions we must make each day—fight the shorts battle...

Keep Reading

You’re a Little Less Baby Today Than Yesterday

In: Journal, Motherhood
Toddler sleeping in mother's arms

Tiny sparkles are nestled in the wispy hair falling across her brow, shaken free of the princess costume she pulled over her head this morning. She’s swathed in pink: a satiny pink dress-up bodice, a fluffy, pink, slightly-less-glittery-than-it-was-two-hours-ago tulle skirt, a worn, soft pink baby blanket. She’s slowed long enough to crawl into my lap, blinking heavy eyelids. She’s a little less baby today than she was only yesterday.  Soon, she’ll be too big, too busy for my arms.  But today, I’m rocking a princess. The early years will be filled with exploration and adventure. She’ll climb atop counters and...

Keep Reading

Dear Husband, I Loved You First

In: Marriage, Motherhood, Relationships
Man and woman kissing in love

Dear husband, I loved you first. But often, you get the last of me. I remember you picking me up for our first date. I spent a whole hour getting ready for you. Making sure every hair was in place and my make-up was perfect. When you see me now at the end of the day, the make-up that is left on my face is smeared. My hair is more than likely in a ponytail or some rat’s nest on the top of my head. And my outfit, 100% has someone’s bodily fluids smeared somewhere. But there were days when...

Keep Reading

Stop Being a Butthole Wife

In: Grief, Journal, Marriage, Relationships
Man and woman sit on the end of a dock with arms around each other

Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it.  Let’s start with the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It’s maddening. It’s insanity. Why, why, must he leave piles of clothes scattered, the same way that the toddler does, right? I mean, grow up and help out around here, man. There is no laundry fairy. What if that pile of laundry is a gift in disguise from a God you can’t (yet) see? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Be Everyone’s Chick-fil-A Sauce

In: Friendship, Journal, Living, Relationships
woman smiling in the sun

A couple of friends and I went and grabbed lunch at Chick-fil-A a couple of weeks ago. It was delightful. We spent roughly $20 apiece, and our kids ran in and out of the play area barefoot and stinky and begged us for ice cream, to which we responded, “Not until you finish your nuggets,” to which they responded with a whine, and then ran off again like a bolt of crazy energy. One friend had to climb into the play tubes a few times to save her 22-month-old, but it was still worth every penny. Every. Single. One. Even...

Keep Reading

Love Notes From My Mother in Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Journal, Living
Woman smelling bunch of flowers

Twelve years have passed since my mother exclaimed, “I’ve died and gone to Heaven!” as she leaned back in her big donut-shaped tube and splashed her toes, enjoying the serenity of the river.  Twelve years since I stood on the shore of that same river, 45 minutes later, watching to see if the hopeful EMT would be able to revive my mother as she floated toward his outstretched hands. Twelve years ago, I stood alone in my bedroom, weak and trembling, as I opened my mother’s Bible and all the little keepsakes she’d stowed inside tumbled to the floor.  It...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Friendships End, No Matter How Hard You Try

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Sad woman alone without a friend

I tried. We say these words for two reasons. One: for our own justification that we made an effort to complete a task; and two: to admit that we fell short of that task. I wrote those words in an e-mail tonight to a friend I had for nearly 25 years after not speaking to her for eight months. It was the third e-mail I’ve sent over the past few weeks to try to reconcile with a woman who was more of a sister to me at some points than my own biological sister was. It’s sad when we drift...

Keep Reading

Goodbye to the House That Built Me

In: Grown Children, Journal, Living, Relationships
Ranch style home as seen from the curb

In the winter of 1985, while I was halfway done growing in my mom’s belly, my parents moved into a little brown 3 bedroom/1.5 bath that was halfway between the school and the prison in which my dad worked as a corrections officer. I would be the first baby they brought home to their new house, joining my older sister. I’d take my first steps across the brown shag carpet that the previous owner had installed. The back bedroom was mine, and mom plastered Smurf-themed wallpaper on the accent wall to try to get me to sleep in there every...

Keep Reading