Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Things have been absolutely crazy! After my Mr. received our orders for Hawaii, our next mission was getting us  back together. I hesitantly packed a few things hoping that the day for me to follow him would come soon, but after weeks of waiting, I kinda gave up. We found an apartment online and bought a car. On a Wednesday, my Marine texted me a one word text. "Pack." My mind began racing! I was so excited! Then things got tricky. He eventually called and I immediately asked when I would be leaving. When he said, "Friday", I thought for sure he meant the following week. Wroooong! I had a day and a half to pack my entire life and mentally prepare myself for my first PCS move. (But luckily, it doesn't take a lot to prepare your brain for paradise.) Things were hectic I can tell you that much. I was allowed four suitcases, and one was all shoes. Don't judge me. The best advice I can give is to roll your clothing, and USE SPACE BAGS! They don't get enough credit. Thursday came, and I had my tearful last day at work, and a big going away dinner. I  was too tired to be grateful at the time, but looking back now I realize how much I am loved by the people that came to my little party. It really meant a lot. Friday morning came, and at the ass crack of dawn I was standing in a line longer than the Mississippi waiting to go through security. While I had my military id, the grumpy lady would not let me through the "express lane" if you will, because I was not in military uniform. (Which caused a very angry, irritated, bitchy Emma.) Eventually I got to my gate and thus continued my long journey to Hawaii. I got bumped up to first class from Seattle to Honolulu, which was cool and all, but not so exciting when you're not old enough to drink the complimentary mai tais. Bummer. At the end of my nearly seven hour flight, I had my eyes on the prize, and basically ran to baggage claim to see my green eyed guy and hold him for the first time since our wedding. Everything was finally falling into place, and as I walked with my dear husband to the car, I gazed upon all the palm trees and smiled as I thought to myself, "Girl, you are definitely not in Kansas anymore."

Aloha Kansas.

So basically, we had the wedding of the century. Everything was beautiful, and things worked out very well. Sure, our minister made random "Wonder Twins" references, but it was all good. I know the groom was nervous, because he was acting super sarcastic and silly the whole time, which sort of got to me, because it made me feel stupid. But I knew he didn't mean anything by it. Finally we were pronounced husband and wife at 3:38 p.m. and we faced our family and friends to walk back up the aisle. It wasn't until then that my mom saw my beautiful, hand bedazzled bright blue converse shoes. I didn't see it, but from what I hear, her face was priceless. I mean, did she expect any different from me? Besides, if all excuses failed, they were my "something blue." My brother drove us away in his Ford Fusion, and took us to Sonic for about fifteen minutes to let the church clear out for pictures. We're a classy bunch, huh? =) After pictures and such we went to the reception and danced the night away with our partially inebriated relatives. We took turns sneaking away to the gift table and unwrapping corners of presents to see what the were. After the fun and laughs, my new Mr. and I headed to the hotel in town for a quiet evening alone. My mom booked us a suite complete with a hot tub in the corner of the bedroom. We sat in the hot tub for at least an hour, talking about what had happened today, and how excited we were to start our lives together. I remember we fell asleep with all the lights on, watching South Park, for God only knows what reason. We took turns trying to wake each other up to pack for our actual honeymoon, but it wasn't until 9:30ish that our feet actually hit the ground. We ate breakfast together and headed back up to pack, but my new husband slinked back into bed for a nap, so I found myself packing alone. I didn't mind it except that everytime I walked by his uniform all hung up, it scared the piss out of me because it looked like someone standing there around the corner. Eventually all was packed, and we were on our way to Oklahoma for our real getaway that he had planned all by himself. He was pretty proud, and I must say, I was too when we pulled up to a quaint little cabin complete with a wrap around porch that was all ours for the weekend. We snacked on chips and dip, and took a hike through Mount Scott. We snuggled all night, and stayed in bed as long as we wanted. All together, life was good. I still had the ticking of the clock bothering me however; I knew he had to leave in a matter of days. And unlike all the times before, we didn't know when we would get to see each other again. But he had to go back eventually, and I had to let him, this time making no promises about containing my heartache, and I cried. An elderly lady in a wheelchair even gave me some tissues. I couldn't see the light at this tunnel until about three weeks later he called and told me that he had received his orders, and we knew where we were to be stationed....A little placed called Hawaii.

Family Matters

     Planning a wedding without a groom proves to be very difficult. He had to go back to training in California about three days after the proposal. But in those few days, we managed to pick out a church and a reception hall. This helped, but there was still so much more that needed to be addressed. The original date was set for December 20th, because it was our anniversary. That fell through because it would have been on a Tuesday. So then we shot for December 17th. Once again, it wouldn't work because one of my far away siblings wouldn't be able to make it, and family is important to both of us. We tried for New Years Eve, but the church wouldn't allow it. Apparently, even pastors want to get wasted! So we finally settled with December 30th, 2011, at 3pm. That gave us precisely three months for planning and preparation.
     The day he left was rough, but I knew I would see him again in roughly 12 weeks. I once again promised not to cry, and I kept that promise. He had MCT for about a month, therefore he wasn't really allowed much phone time making it near impossible to go any further with wedding plans. He said it didn't matter and that he would love the wedding no matter how it was put together. But I wanted his opinion. So I made things difficult by waiting. This endeavor made things stressful on both sides and I don't particularly recommend it; but it seems that I learn things the hard way which is better than not learning at all. It was hard on my side because of course I missed him terribly, and also because my mom is a "get it all done right now" kind of gal. (God bless her.) It was hard on him because when he did get phone time, he wasn't exactly looking forward to making decisions, and I don't blame him. There were several meltdowns, but the one I look back on the most and can finally smile about is when my sister, mom, and I went ring shopping. I had intended on just picking my wedding band out just to prepare for how much we were going to have to save. But with my family, tings never really turn out the way I plan. We ended up looking for his ring, which was stellar and all, but I wasn't exactly keen on the idea of buying his ring without him having any say-so in the matter. I realized that I had no idea of what he liked when it came to that. So immediately, I'm sweating, hunched over the glass looking at all these rings that wouldn't pop up and say, "Hey! Pick me! I'm his favorite!" It was a pretty frustrating ordeal. My mind was racing and I suddenly sympathized with Him. He went through this for me already! And did an amazing job picking my ring. Eventually I chose a ring I thought he would like. I got up in preparation to leave, thinking that I would describe it to him when we got to talk this weekend, but my mom insisted that we buy it right now and get it over with. "It's not that big of a deal, Emma! He will love it. Let's just get it now." But to me, this was a very big deal! He has to wear this ring for the rest of his life, and I wanted him to have input. Somehow we ended up raising our voices and I hurriedly exited the store in hopes that no one would see that I had involuntarily started crying. My sister came out and bought me a drink and told me to just get it today because we were allowed to bring it back for full store credit within 90 days. I found this comforting, so we bought it that day. (Duh. Why didn't I think of that?)
     Looking back that seemed soooo stressful. But that was only the beginning. We had a food finding frenzy about a week before the wedding, flower mishaps, and a lack of funds. But with the cooperation and assistance from both families, things progressed and pulled together. There was a lot of drama between families, and a lot of tears and heartache on both sides. Somehow though, we worked through it, and when the big day came, everything was sincerely perfect. Sure, there were some last minute freakouts; (Example, my dress wasn't finished being altered, I lost my eyelash glue, a flowergirl tore her dress...etc) But we got through it. Together. As two people united, two families did as well. And that in itself, makes a ceremony truly worth remembering. Having one challenge checked off my list, I faced another. I married the military.

Not a Typical Evening

Having him home was absolute bliss. I woke up to his green eyes every morning, and fell asleep in his arms every night. I knew he had to leave soon, but I pushed it into the very back of my thoughts every time it creeped up on me. But there was one thought I couldn't shove back no matter how hard I tried. What if he doesn't ask me to marry him? During basic I had missed a call from him, and he left me a sweet voicemail saying that he missed me and when he returned, he planned to propose. But my brain constantly brought to my attention the fact that he may not do it; that he may not even want to. He had about three days left, and I had finally been nice enough to let him out of my sight for a little while. My brother wanted to take him to see his college dorm room and to meet some of his friends. I approved his leave request, and off they went. They returned a few hours later as promised, and we finished the day like normal. dinner at the house, some movies and cuddling, then off to bed. But this night was different. We were laying in bed, but we kept talking and he was being rowdy, which isn't really all that abnormal. But he kept chatting about how pretty the sky was tonight and he wanted to look at the stars and blah blah blah. So I finally gave in and we grabbed a few blankets and headed out to the backyard. There we were under the big black sky filled with tiny little diamonds. Little did I know that he had a bigger diamond in his pocket. That's right ladies and gentlemen, he did it. He asked me to marry him. And I said yes. Let the madness begin!

Home Sweet Home

After graduation, I finally had Him all to myself. I couldn't wait to get him out of his top notch Marine status and actually get to talk to HIM, without all the jargon I didn't completely understand yet. (It's a work in progress.) I knew that everyone expected us to just attack eachother when we were alone, but that really didn't happen, and I can honestly say that talking and snuggling until we fell asleep for three hours was 10 times better. The weird thing was how shy I felt. I have known this man for almost five years! He was my best friend! Why do I feel so flippin bashful?! I swear everytime he even said my name I got goosebumps or my cheeks would feel hot, and I knew that I most likely had the goofiest smile ever pulled across my beet red face. He never said anything, but I have a feeling that he might've been laughing at me a bit on the inside.Finally back in civillian clothes that his loving girlfriend packed for him, we walked hand in hand down the street from our hotel in search of food. We came across an iHop and jumped on the oppurtunity for pancakes. After dinner, we walked out of the resturant and he politely held the door open for people as the exited with us. He even gave some hobos a few bucks on our way back. I picked a downright sweetheart, and it made my chest swell with pride. He's definitely a keeper. Upon our arrival to the hotel, we began packing up some of our things, and went over our flight schedule for the following day. He woke me up that morning with kisses and told me we had to get ready to go and to call up a taxi. Well THAT was an experience. I couldn't understand a single thing that guy said. But somehow, I managed to understand that he would be there when we needed him. We loaded our bags into the cab feeling somewhat grown up, and rode to the airport with smiles on our faces and love in our hearts. The flights were good, but it wouldn't matter if they were horrible because I was in my own little happy world sitting next to him, without a care in the world. I drove us home from the airport, and once we reached our hometown, my marine rolled down the window, and stuck his head out like a puppy. There was nothing I could do but look at him and smile happily thinking, "Heeeeeee's baaaaaaack!"

Meeting my Marine

The day had finally come, and I found myself sitting on an airplane on the way to California. I had my big meltdown of nervousness the night before, so all that was left was pure excitement. I remember my heart jumping whenever the captain said that we were flying over sunny San Diego. I smooshed my face up against the window and thought to myself, "he's down there somewhere." After landing, I got my luggage and waited patiently for His parents to pick me up. They had driven all the way there, and agreed to meet me at the airport. I didn't think I would ever get to sleep that night, but I fell into a nice slumber pretty quickly. The next morning, I tried my absolute best to contain all the energy and excitement I had running through me. But as soon as His stepfather and mom left, I jumped from one bed to the other and into the bathroom saying, "Yaaaaaaaay!" It wasn't long before His mom and stepdad poked their heads into the room to figure out what all the sudden racket was about. The whole morning was absolute agony. We got on base by about 9 am, and I didn't get my arms around him until about 3. That moment was indescribable. I patiently waited for his sisters, brother, and mom to hug him before I took my turn. I wrapped my arms around him and took in everything. He smelled different. Not bad at all, but it wasn't the smell I remembered. He was skinnier, and his arms were bigger. The sun had kissed his freckled face, which was incredibly smooth from an intense shaving lesson he must've gotten. He greeted me with a, "Hey baby. I missed you." Tears immediately greeted my eyes, and all the time we had been seperated was lost.  I had him here, in my arms, and that was all that mattered. For the rest of the day my new Marine strutted around, proudly giving us the tour of where he had been stuck the past three months. I couldn't stop looking at him. I was in awe of everything. I just couldn't believe we had made it this far. The one thing that really sucked however, was that we were not allowed to kiss nor hold hands. This would probably be easy for most people, but not me or him. While giving us the tour of a museum, he yanked me around a corner and kissed me real quick. It was then that I knew that nothing had changed. All my worries about him being different were washed away at that moment. He was definitely the boy I knew and loved, the only difference was that my boy was now a Marine. And I couldn't wait to get him back home.

When a shoebox kept me sane.

Like I mentioned previously, by August this military girlfriend stuff was a breeze. But when September came rolling around, I was a nervous, antsy, excited, irritated, terrified, agitated, delighted, giddy, mess. I didn't know which way was up. If you have ever known someone who is in the military you understand how much people talk about how different your loved one will be after basic training no matter what branch they are a part of. With this being pounded into your cranium for three months straight, you can hopefully understand why I was so apprehensive to see Him again. Every night my brain kept me up playing the damn "What If" game. You know which one I'm talking about. The beloved game in which your mind tortures you and makes you think about the absolute worst possible scenarios. Yeah. I played that game the entire month. "What if they convinced Him he doesn't want me anymore? What if he, 'wants to focus on just his career'? What if he decides that I'm not worth it? What if he doesn't have the same sense of humor? What if...? What if...? What if...?" I remember the night before I left to see him graduate in California, I was a freaking strung out mess. I could not keep it together if my life depended on it. I finally reached the point to where I was hyperventilating. Tears poured from my eyes without my permission, and I was rocking back and forth on the edge of my bed trying to pull myself together. About five minutes into my rocking chair routine, a pink Sketchers box caught my attention. It was the box I had lovingly placed every single letter I had received from Him in the past three months. It was, (in that moment) my saving grace. I probably spent an hour re-reading every single heartfelt letter that boy wrote me, and when I finished, I knew everything was going to be more than okay. I felt warm and at peace for the first time in a long time. I placed the box on my dresser, and took a deep breath. I smiled to myself when I realized how ridiculous my meltdown was, but I mostly smiled because I knew that this time Thursday, I would be giving my newly graduated Marine a hug, and further more, because I knew that he and I would carry on, as if never separated in the first place.

2160 hours to go. Now what?

Now, I'm not going to sit here and lie to you. Tears instantly greeted my eyes, the minute he turned away from me. But that's okay. I promised to not cry in front of him, not to refrain from crying at all. It was one of those really super annoying cries where your brain isn't telling you cry, and neither are your eyes, so why is it happening?! I was literally leaking. Everytime I blinked seawater splashed down on to my cheeks. As I reached my car, I saw his shuttle pulling away, taking the man I love far far away from me. I watched until it was nothing but a speck in the distance. Starting then, I had approximately 2,160 hours until I would see those green eyes again. "So what now?", you may ask. What do you do for the following three months? The best advice I can give to a girl with a military man is to keep yourself busy.  That can be pretty easy if you are seperated during the school year, but remember, my man left late June and was expected to graduate late September. I still had a whole month of summer, and almost all of August before my college courses began. So what did I do? I joined a support group online. I went to work everyday and put all my earnings into our savings account. I visited my sister in Boston. I got my wisdom teeth out. But the best recommendation I can give, is to write. I kept a journal and wrote what I did everyday and how I was feeling. Not only was it a great way to express myself, but a great way to just dump everything that you are feeling. And! As an added bonus, I planned on giving the journal to my new Marine after basic. It was a cool way for him to know how I was really doing during his absence. Man, that journal was my absolute best friend. I wrote about everything. It wasn't until September that I began to fall behind, but that is only because classes were in full swing. Things were fantastic...until the moon took her spot in the sky. Night time...was horrible. I wasn't used to falling asleep alone, falling asleep without a long conversation, falling asleep without tickle torture, or falling asleep without watching the Lion King with Him. (Don't hate. We love that movie.) That was definitely the hardest adjustment. But like most tough things in life, it gets better. Letters were sent back and forth between us, and that is really something special. Text messages and phone calls are cool, but there is really something precious about a handwritten letter with your name on it. That's something to treasure forever. By August, I would say I was pretty well adjusted go to work, go to class, do homework, write Him a letter, maybe sleep...but there was always that constant nagging voice in my head asking, "Is it September yet?"

Promises.

At the age of ten, I solemnly swore to never become involved with a man in the military. So much for that. As of December 20th, 2010, my life has been completely flipped upside down...and I have never been happier. On that day, my freckled faced partner in crime asked me to be his. The choice was easy. Date my best friend, or let him beg for another four years? Like most fairy tales, the girl said yes, and we began on our journey. Remember the promise I made to myself? The one about never being with a military guy? I broke that promise. My spunky, green eyed boyfriend was leaving in June for Marine Corps Basic Training. That's right. I got me a military man. I was aware that this was what he wanted, but I guess I never really grasped the big picture until he left. The final hug before the three month separation was all I had to cling to. It was then that everything hit me. Like a punch in the stomach, I realized he was leaving and I wouldn't feel those arms around me again for 90 days. A quarter of a year without his random smooches, surprise breakfasts, or extravagant stories. But during that same hug I decided that for this man, I would be strong. When he let go, I would not cry. I would not ask him to stay or even say goodbye. Instead I promised to watch him turn away from me; watch him follow his dream. And furthermore, I promised to support him the whole way.