Saying good-bye
The first time my husband left, our third baby was just six weeks old. He was going to England for continuing education, and it was impossible for us to join him. When he came home eight months later, I vowed we would never be apart like that again.
I could not imagine that one day, he’d enlist as a chaplain in the Army Reserves. I would not have been willing to entertain the idea of him going into the military full-time. I would not have been able to talk about deployments or endure the duty and training that takes him away from us for months on end.
But here we are, acquainted with separation once again. It is a unique place to be, and if you are a friend to someone whose spouse is sometimes far away, you might struggle to understand. If I could presume to be the voice of the countless mothers who have had to say good-bye to their husbands for a period of time, knowing each situation is different, this is what I would say to help you understand what it is like to be one of us.
1) Know I am fragile
Separation is like surgery. The most important person in my life has been removed from me, at least for a time. Like flesh being torn from flesh, it hurts. I know he is safe and will come home again, and that helps. Still, he is not here, and I find myself struggling for balance, fighting for comfort, longing for the rest I have when he is home. His absence is always present.
In a sense, I am in a constant state of recovery, of learning how to manage alone. In some ways, it gets easier every time we do this. In other ways, it gets harder. Most days, I am up for the challenge. But I might not be up for more. Know that I am vulnerable. You might be surprised at what I can’t handle right now, even if I seem so strong. Seemingly insignificant things might be too much. It’s because I’m already handling enough. Give me grace to be weak to everything else.
Worn out
2) I am exhausted
Separations are mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually taxing. I am responsible for everything. There is no duty-sharing, no working together, no team-work. All the housework, discipline, boo-boo kissing, oil changes, bill paying—it’s all me. Every day.
At the end of the day (and sometimes first thing in the morning) I feel like I’ve run a marathon, and I am not accustomed to running marathons. I am using muscles I rarely use. I have to think about things I never think about. I am sore. My feet hurt. At the end of the day, I just want to collapse into bed.
Over time, some things get easier. I get used to the new routine. The kids start to adjust. I no longer feel like going to bed at 4 pm. But by then, a different kind of exhaustion sets in. It is more emotional than physical. I’m tired of being strong, but there’s still a lot of race to run.
Be understanding. If I forget to return a phone call, turn down a request to make cookies for a bake sale, or fail to keep my house clean, it’s because I’ve been really busy running lately.
The long road home
3) I am concerned about my children
One of the most difficult aspects of separation is the potential impact it has on my children. I worry about their emotional well-being, their relationship with their dad and his with them. I wonder whether or not they feel safe and secure when our family is glued together by Skype dates and intermittent phone calls. I worry about my sons, who long for a wrestling partner, a bonfire maker, and a comrade. I worry about my girls, who are missing the most important man in their lives.
Loving my children is one of the most important ways you can support me. Take the time to give them extra hugs. Sneak a piece of gum into their hands. Arm wrestle my boy. Tell them you’re proud of their daddy, and you’re really, really proud of them.
Daddy time
4) I am not a victim—don’t let me act like one!
There are very few true victims in the world, and I am not one of them. My husband is separated from us because of choices we made. We are adequately cared for, our needs are supplied, and while we miss him terribly, we are safe and so is he. A separation like this is uniquely challenging but it is not the worst thing in the world. Not even close.
Still, indulging in self-pity is a temptation, especially when all the kids are sick, I haven’t talked to my husband in days, and the bathroom sink is leaking. You might think you are being a supportive friend by giving me a shoulder to whine on. But you’re wrong. No one ever leaves a pity-party feeling better about her situation.
Instead, let me know you want much more for me than to just hope I survive. You want me to overcome. And that takes a lot more work. Hold me to that higher standard. Then help me figure out what’s wrong with that sink.
5) Ask better questions
“How are you doing with your husband gone?”
It’s a question I hear countless times every week. It’s a natural thing to ask, and while there’s nothing wrong with the question, it doesn’t engage me the way a better question could. In fact, it tends to shut me down because there is just too much to say.
If you really want to know how I’m doing, take a second to imagine how you would feel if you were separated from your spouse. There now. Don’t you feel like you understand me better already? Now you will stop before asking things like, “Are you looking forward to your husband coming home?” because you know I ache for him to come home. Some questions do not even need to be asked.
But better questions make me feel better cared for. I know you’ve really thought about me and really want to know how I am. Can’t think of any better questions? Here are some to get you started:
“What time of day is hardest for you?”
“How do you handle the weekends?”
“Have you come up with any special traditions to help mark the passing of the days?”
“What’s one thing you’ve learned from this separation?”
“How can I pray for you this week?”
Saturday Sticks!
6) Recognize victories
Every Saturday during my husband’s absences, the children draw a Saturday stick from a jar. Each stick is labeled with a surprise activity for us to enjoy that day. It is our little way of celebrating being another week closer to Daddy’s next homecoming.
We have found that we need these celebrations, these small recognitions of progress. They remind us that this season is not forever and that we are achieving something significant. We are making it through a tough spot together. We’re doing it! In fact, we’re having some fun in the process.
Celebrate with us! I don’t expect you to remember how long my husband has been gone or when he’s coming home, but I love it when you recognize that we just made it through one more Monday, and that’s one less Monday we’ll have to go through before we’re together again. Simply saying, “Hey! You’ve made it through another week!” reminds me that I’m not in this alone. And oftentimes, that’s exactly what I need to know.
You may also expect that separations like this can bring about significant personal and spiritual growth. Ask me about it. What have I learned about myself? How have I grown? How has this season changed how I parent? What has it taught me about my husband? How have I seen God provide for me while my spouse is away? Wait for the answer and listen for the blessing. At the end of the separation, these are the things that are going to last. These are the things that are truly worth celebrating.
Always something to celebrate
How about you?
Have you experienced separations in your marriage? What would you include in this list?
Hi Kristen, I’m a silent reader of your blog. I am asking your permission to link this post to my blog, I hope you don’t mind. Thanks before!
Absolutely! Thank you for asking.
I read your post. good stuff!
Please note: message attached
Wow, I don’t know what to say really. my husband has been away for two years now working in Africa. He is in an area where terrorism is rife, and was only 500m from the bomb on the UN building which killed at least 25, and a mile or so from a church targeted on Christmas day.. Although he is blaisé about it, I have an small underlying fear that he might not come back, and each time (one week in every 12) he touches down in France the relief is immense. What I hate most is other parents (who don’t know me well) thinking that I am possibly separated from him and just keeping up appearances. I detest being lonely and feel it intensely at times, and in particular the weekends. I know it’s difficult to invite a single woman socially, but I wish people would. I wish sometimes people would invite my kids around more to give them a change and me a break. So If I was to put anything on that wish list it would be – “Please invite us more”
The most difficult aspect of parenting alone is meeting the needs and interests of a wide age range. The weekends are hard because the older do not want to do what the younger want, and vice versa.
Not knowing when it will end is really hard as is not knowing how it will affect the children. When my children say “I think it would be better if Daddy came home gradually because I can’t remember how to live with him anymore” I feel choked.
I agree with all your points. Its REALLY easy to feel a victim, and even easier to feel bitter about being left to cope, especially when he rattles off about eating in a restaurant when he can’t be bothered to cook, and when he goes out to do sport each evening. I know he’s making the best of it and he’s working for us, but when I’m tired it’s really easy to loose perspective.
The worst aspect of all is communication. 8/10 times we cannot get a phone connection, and his phone is a mobile which is expensive, and the rest of the time his internet is too slow for Skype.
But it’s good to hear of others out there doing the same, and next time i’m down I shall think of you and pour a virtual cup of tea for us both!
Wow, your comment left me speechless. I am grieved for you and your family. Having to endure a separation is hard enough, but to have it be so long and so dangerous…I am left feeling such heartache for you.
Wonderful insight. I am saying a prayer for you and your family right now!
A seventh thing: A good thing for a Christian to consider is that any trial can be used by God to prepare you to comfort others.
3 Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort; 4 Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God. (2 Cor 1:3-4)
As the Lord encourages you through His Word, and through the kindness of friends, you will be prepared to strengthen others as they go through similar separations. God uses trials not only to mold us into His image, but so that we will prepared to minister to others with similar needs.
It is so true, Chris, and I am thankful for the opportunities to minster to other families who face separations. Even small separations like a week-long camping trip can be challenging! Thank you for your encouragement to keep looking for ways to share the comfort of Christ.
While you are a lovely writer and an obviously wonderful momma, and I really enjoy your blog, this edition brought up some hurtful feelings for me. My husband left me and our eight children nine years ago this week. My youngest was just 2, and my oldest at 16 was so broken by the fighting that he ran away for a year and a half. Neighbors and friends would see me over the years making our lives work and would look to me as an example or mentor. often they would say, if their husband was out of town or worked a lot, “it’s like being a single mother!” Well, no, it’s not like being a single mother. All that you said in this article is true for the single mother, except without the hope and promise of a spouse’s return. The exhaustion, coupled with having to work at least one full-time job, the parent-teacher conferences alone, staying up with vomiting kids with flu night after night (I have been doing that this week while I have the flu, too), all of the things that are hard when you are temporarily manning the ship alone are all that much harder knowing there is no help on the way. The worst part is observing one of my wonderful children, catching a pass, singing in a talent show, writing an amazing paper on Lord of the Flies that should be in a literary journal-that was this week, too- or just being their perfectly beautiful self, and not having someone next to me who loves them equally to admire their wonderful-ness with me. I am not unsympathetic to the struggles of those whose husband isn’t home f or awhile, because I do know what your life is like. But for those of you who can look forward to their return, please remember you are blessed, and don’t discount those of us who are widowed or separated permanently.
This is one of the reasons I included #4. Women like me have no idea what it’s like to be a woman like you, and I don’t consider the separation I face with my husband to be anything like what you have to go through. If anything, it’s made me stand in awe of all the single mothers out there. I have a slight glimpse of what single mothers do day in and day out, and it scares me to death. But our situations are completely different,and I certainly can’t compare our situation with yours. I am so sorry that you have had to go through all the things you have, and that your children have suffered for the choices your husband made. I was raised by a single mother after my dad died, and even that is nothing like what you have to face. Yours is a different kind of hurt.
Still, separations are hard, even under the best of circumstances. Sometimes, I have to battle feeling hurt when women moan because their husbands are away for the weekend. I want to say, “Don’t you know? My husband has been gone for months!” But then I realize that just because my trial is more difficult than theirs does not mean that their trial isn’t real at all. It still counts. It’s just different, and it requires different adjustments. My husband has not been in battle. I’m sure other military wives fight feeling hurt when I am missing my husband because my husband is perfectly safe. I do not worry that he might not come home. But still, it doesn’t negate the fact that this separation is long and hard and lonely too, even if it’s not as long and hard and lonely as someone else’s.
But my heart grieves for you and for your children. They sound like wonderful people, and you sound like a mom who is overcoming in spite of all the junk. It’s women like you who give me strength. You are the reason I don’t delve into self-pity. And you are in my prayers today.
Maybe it’s the flu, or the lack of sleep, or hormones, but your reply just made me weep. Or maybe it’s that trying to always make this look like a piece of cake is tiring and inauthentic, and having another person acknowledge the uphill battle that it is is just what I needed but didn’t know until now. At any rate, you are precious. Your blog reminds me to be a tender and attentive mother. I appreciate your prsyers and will reciproc
Maybe it’s the flu, or the lack of sleep, or hormones, but your reply just made me weep. Or maybe it’s that trying to always make this look like a piece of cake is tiring and inauthentic, and having another person acknowledge the uphill battle that it is is just what I needed but didn’t know until now. At any rate, you are precious. Your blog reminds me to be a tender and attentive mother. I appreciate your prsyers and will reciprocate the prayers! Love and blessings to you and your family.
When my twins were newborns, I used to tell my husband, “Sometimes I need you to say, ‘Wow, this is really hard. But you’re doing it!'” Just saying “You’re doing a great job!” isn’t always enough because it doesn’t acknowledge how hard it is to do that great job, how sometimes you feel like you just can’t go another step, but you do. I imagine that you have made a great deal of personal sacrifices to make sure your kids are safe, inside and out. So I will be praying for you, earnestly. In fact, I just told me kids about your family, and they were as grieved as I am by your story. Now you have all five in tow praying for your eight (plus momma). 🙂
My man is away, as well…thank you, thank you, for #4. It is so easy to think of myself as a victim in this separation even though my trial is small and my burden light in comparison to those around me.
Prayed for you Kristen. I really need to remember not to think it’s ok to whine…the paragraph you wrote about not allowing whining was important to me as I often think in tough spots, I have the right to whine.
Thank you for all the sharring/encouraging you do on your blog!!!!
Mel
I was thinking of you yesterday and your journey, and had the prompting to message you, but got side-tracked as usual and missed it. Thanks for sharing your heart and for the inside information on how to pray for you. God is giving you some great opportunities to learn things that some of the rest of us will never learn, but life’s greatest lessons come at some very tough times. I pray for you often as your page comes up every time I open my browser. Love you.
Oh, Kristen! I remember the days that you were asking me those innocent, dreaded questions. Then I remember when Jeff was in England. I believe some form of “I don’t think I could handle deployments like you do,” came out at some point and now, look at you!
I can relate to how you are now, although, even when Jeff wasn’t in the Army I felt that your work load was impressive. I mean that as a compliment to you and how well you made it work.
Which brings me to the most important phrase all military spouses live by, “Just make it work.” Sometimes days do run into the 25,26th hour. I can’t tell you how many times I fell asleep with the telephone next to my ear do I wouldn’t miss that 3am, 20 min phone call that could suddenly be cut off cause the ship took precedence of the phone connections. I’ve cried like a baby when I did my time zone estimation wrong and came home to a voicemail from my husband, knowing I might not hear his voice for another 2 weeks. Home Depot, Lowes, Ace Hardware, and all hardware aisles became havens at times thanks to those dear retired handymen that now wear the companies vests and ask me if I need help. Sometimes, that was a loaded question and I have to restrain to stay on topic! LOL! But, as always, I made it work. Sometimes driving 1/2hr to see another military friend, where the kids would play, eat junk food, watch to much tv, and eventually pass out, cause these two Mommies just needed some reprieve, was such a blessing and much needed break to keep me in the game.
As with everything, this too will pass. I imagine that the day will come when you will look upon this and say to yourself, 1. How did I ever pull that off? 2. I can’t believe, at one time, I thought I had reached my limit!
I’m doing a study called Walking with God through the desert, or something really close to that title. Anyway, I learned that in the desert of our lives, God will provide us with just enough shade to get us to that next shady spot. I don’t know why, maybe cause we are stationed in the Middle East now, but that word picture has resonated so deeply for me. Emotionally and physically I now understand what that means. I think I am in a VERY shady spot right now (emotionally with Matt and the Navy), but soon we will have to trek back into the open desert towards that next oasis.
You’ll make it. Stop breathe, and if that doesn’t work go upstairs, close your bedroom door, go into your closet, close that door, keep the lights off and just scream until you feel better. Once you got that out pray hard and I promise God will provide you with your “shade.”
Love ya Kristen. You are an excellent mom and friend. I admire you in ways you might never know. When you get past the halfway mark, optimism starts creeping back into your days. The kids, don’t worry. Security isn’t in the physical. My friend here in Bahrain told me last week, “if you pray, don’t worry. If you worry, don’t pray.” Food for thought.
You are one of the ones I look to for inspiration! If I ever feel like I have it tough, I remember you, pregnant and flying to the other side of the county to find a house by yourself. I remember you, pregnant, trying to find a new obstetrician right before your baby was due. I remember you, at my house with an infant, while your husband was halfway around the world. Thanks for being such an encouragement to me!
Oh girl…I can’t even imagine.
I loved your practicals…of even “better questions to ask”.
So–what time of day is the most difficult for you?
How can I pray for you this week?
I mean that…
We have 4 here and 1 in Heaven and I can’t image that much time without my guy…honestly…let me know…and I will pray.
I was just reading your blog and I found myself thinking, “I can’t imagine losing one of my babies.” It’s interesting how God gives us the grace we need for the moment, and not before. Since you asked, evenings are the most difficult for me. The time difference makes it impossible to talk to my husband after the kids are in bed, and this is typically “our time.” I miss him terribly when all is quite in the house and he’s not here to share our normal time together. But I feel like God has really been ministering to me during this time, and I am so thankful for that. I have felt the sweetness of His presence. But, I found myself wavering in my faith today. Please pray with me as Jeff and I await some news that will determine what we do next. He lost his main job this past year, so we have been waiting for God’s direction. It seems we are about to find out if one door is open…or not. The good thing is, we win either way. Either way, we have part of the answer to what we’ve been praying for. But I’d still appreciate all the prayers I can get for my flashes of fear! Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.
so, Kristi…How HAVE you changes as a parent? Tellme how you are different. I dont know how to pray otherwiae 🙂 God bless you an Jeff as you stay the course. Just remember yor TRUE North!!
Hehe–I’m going to tell you IN PERSON!!!
One other thing that I would add to the list of things not to say is, “I know how you feel.” No, you really don’t because your situation is very different than mine on every levels. But people are trying to be empathetic and caring, so often we have to take what’s said in the spirit that it’s meant. And we are the ones who have to exhibit grace to those who are meaning to show it to us. And isn’t it good to know that God has promised us strength for the day – even when we don’t particularly feel like it’s there. I am so proud of you and your family – you’ve made a hard choice, but it’s one that you feel God has led you in, and He will bless you and your children because you are continuing to walk with Him. I love you!
A beautiful piece. Your love for your husband and family is inspiring. Your clearly expressed thoughts about how you feel and how we can help is inspiring. Your admission of strength and weakness is inspiring. Your reaching out is inspiring. I continue to be grateful to you and your husband and your kids for the choices you have made as a family. Thank you. And when it is early in your marathon and you need cheering on to make it one more mile or even one more step, message me. I’m here with a huge sign that says “Go Five in Tow! I believe in you. I know you can do this – even if it feels hard and exhausting and unmanageable now. You’ve got this. xoxo