The meaty bit of the deployment. The middle bit, the big chunk where you’re a few months in and you’ve got a few months to go.
That’s where I’ve been.
I’ve been keeping my head down, coping.
Get up, get washed, get dressed and keep busy. Drink wine and eat quavers. Repeat.
Let me make this clear to my civvy readers-time has not gone quickly. But it has gone.
I’m utterly bamboozled by this fact. I don’t entirely understand how I have done this middle bit. At the beginning 9 months was utterly paralysingly terrifying. Still is to be honest.
But now it’s utterly paralysingly terrifying with a twist of bewilderment and a silent air punch of pride.
IVE ALMOST BLOODY DONE IT LADIES AND GENTS!
I’ve kept the kids alive and not had a total breakdown!
I’m chalking it up as a big fat WIN.
As the reality that I’ve almost done it hits its actually a bit unsettling. I keep stopping and asking myself how did I get here?
How have I done this?
Has he really been gone for 7 months?!?!
Is he actually coming back?!
On one hand it feels like he’s been gone an eternity, on the other it feels like maybe a few weeks, a couple of months.
And as this self awareness dawns on me it hits me. The absolute totally all consuming longing to have him home.
So near and yet so far from the finish line.
This ladies (and gents) is the final push. That last bit of energy and positivity that you have to dredge up from somewhere in your gut to keep going right up to the end.
I was happily plodding along with the meaty middle bit of the deployment and suddenly the realisation that he will be home soon(ish) hit me.
I kind of wish it hadn’t to be honest. A few more weeks in my “meaty middle bit” bubble would’ve been most welcome.
It’s time for that final sprint! And I’m ready.