A Year Ago

A year ago, life was perfect.  Josh had now been home for four months and he was finally able to be the dad I knew he was.  It was pure bliss watching Josh and our son interact as they bonded instantly.  We began planning with excitement for Dorian’s first birthday and I felt so blessed that although Josh had missed the first six months of our son’s life because of deployment, he would be here for this milestone.  I was a domestic goddess as I came into the role of both motherhood and being a wife and homemaker.  I now took pride in cooking meals and experimenting with foods now that I had a husband to cook for.  I enjoyed my domestic abilities that sprung forth as I was always worried they were talents I lacked.  After a year I had my friend and companion back and I enjoyed the physical closeness we were finally able to share with each other again.  I knew that Josh was still struggling with anxiety and other bi-products of his deployment, but I felt like we were the power couple: dealing with it all and growing closer together as we accomplished our goals.  Although I knew there were things about Josh’s deployment I didn’t understand I always felt like we were just as close as ever.  I was finally a mom and a wife and I loved what I did.  I enjoyed having a clean apartment and a hot meal for Josh to come home to and I loved playing with my son all day and watching my two favorite men bond at night.  I felt like I finally had the life I had worked so hard for. 

A year later and things are in a very different frame.  We are in a new home, one of convenience, not of choice as this is where we were relocated after we lost everything in the fire.  I am going through another very difficult pregnancy that allows me to accomplish very little physically throughout the day, so my once immaculate apartment is typically in a small order of disarray and untidiness.  The meals I plan on cooking remain uncooked and unprepared in the fridge as I generally lose steam before dinner time rolls around and my friend and companion is now a housemate I am trying to reconnect with as I try to get to know the man he has become.  There is no intimacy.  There is no courtship.  There is no trust.  I hurt knowing that perfect imagine I lived a mere year ago was only an illusion as this is what my life and relationship really were; I was just blind to the stinging reality of its harshness. 

You probably think I am just feeling sorry for myself and to be honest, I am feeling a little sorry for myself, but the more important reason for writing this is not to spin a poor pitiful me story (although there are many days I feel that way).  Instead, this is to prove that we are the makers of our own happiness.  Life this year has been nothing short of hell as my entire life has been revealed in a new light and skeletons in closets were revealed that I never knew existed.  I was blissfully happy a year ago, but believe it or not, I am still happy although my days of toil wear me to the bone and even leave me crying.  I know that sounds contradictory, but I end the day happy with who I am and what I did.  I have no regrets in what I am or what I do, so how can I be unhappy when I am still blessed as I am a mother to a miracle.  And although our relationship is in tatters, Josh is at least now seeking help so that we can assess the damage that has been done and hopefully recover from the trials that have taken over our lives.  As long as we do all we are capable of doing, then that’s all there is; meaning pick yourself up and carry on.  It’s nice to know that I have control over that choice.