"True love is rare,

and it's the only thing

that gives life real meaning."

-Nicholas Sparks

                                                                                       WYATT

Overcast and misty air have been the current weather and quite suiting considering my departure today. It's the calm before the storm, and I don't think the reality of truly being away from each other has hit yet, at least not until night comes. The normal flow of work will feel the same, until 6pm, when I'd usually be walking in my front door, greeted with Abbie's smile as the aroma of dinner reaches my nose, demanding a growl from my evening hunger.

Each time I leave our bedroom to grab another essential item for my trip, Abbie seems to sneak post-its and snacks between each piece of clothing, stuffing "I love you" post-it's in the small pocket my socks form when folded together and between random pages of my books. Cleverly hiding drink mix packs, jerky sticks, sleeves of cookies, and a jar of praline pecans in the side pockets and the folded spots of my underwear and T-shirts. She's been watching YouTube videos about all thing's deployment, what to pack, what to expect, what to say, you name it. She was excited to decorate and send out care-packages once I landed, but after research and joining a few support groups on social media, she learned about OPSEC. How once again real life is much different than the books or movies. They tend to leave out the part of disclosing information and lead you to believe, letters, packages, and video request can always be sent. At first, she was disheartened and feared never being able to call or write. For weeks, the idea of some form of communication was what she was banking on to get her through these months of separation.

"Did you pack enough underwear? What about extra toothbrushes? I read you can never have enough toothbrushes, if you lose them, you're screwed and if you drop them your screwed considering some living conditions." She franticly runs down the list for the third time as she takes another bite of breakfast, followed by her grossed-out face as she imagines the places a toothbrush could fall.

"Yes, and you put both packs in my toiletry bag, Abs." I say with a chuckle trying to lighten the mood, this entire morning has been so intense and depressing. Like we are about to attend a funeral.

How do families do this? Abbie has excused herself from the room several times to wipe away a few tears that slipped past her strong yet cheerful demeanor, but her glossy eyes, flushed cheeks, and sniffles betray that image. But, I let her have the satisfaction of being supportive. So many times, I've wanted to pull her in my arms and have, but I know she is fighting this battle with in herself to prove she will be alright. To prove to herself, that she can prove it to me. I'm sure she also read that her worry and stress can transfer to me and effect my ability to perform. She's been making it a point for me to "not worry" and that "She will be fine". Some bullshit I'm sure she learned from one of those online groups, but her vulnerability and need for me is what I'd prefer. I want her to need me, I want her to lean on me, to let me carry this weight with her.

"Oh shit, I forgot." Lifting my duffel as I pat my chest and pockets.

"What?" she turns to me, wide eyed with concern. "Pens? Paper?"

"A kiss." I respond with a low voice, stepping toward her with my eyes pinned to her perfectly plump lips. They part into a smile, just before clashing into mine and I can taste the sweet strawberry jam from the toast she was eating from moments ago, as I pull in her thick bottom lip. The emotions we were dreading dissolve as each tender kiss eases our concern and unspoken doubts. When I pull back, I tilt my head low to meet hers, strumming my thumb against her tear-streaked cheek. "I love you Abagail Carr, always and forever." Before placing a lone kiss to her forehead and resting my chin atop her beautiful head.

"Before we go, I do want to give you something." Bending to my knee, I reach beneath the bed. "But you have to promise to me you will finish what we started." A puzzled expression spreads across her face as I grab a box pulling it into view, lifting the lid to reveal her mama's old wooden jewelry box.

"Oh my gosh! I-"

"I grabbed it for you before I left home. You had to flee with nothing, I figured you'd want it back along with the rest of the stuff in the box, It not much just the stack of books you had in your nightstand. I've been keeping it for when we saw each other again."

Lifting the books from the box still bond by the same thick rubber band, Abbie gently squeezes them into her chest.

"Thank you, baby, you have no idea how much this means."

Dipping down, she joins me on the floor, as I open the box, removing the worn map I unfold it, to spread it across the bed. And I watch Abbie lean in, taking in a sight for sore eyes, reminiscing over each place as she traces the smeared black ink stars with her index finger.

"Oh, I remember being so undecided between here and Utah" She says brightly, "- I remember us writing an entire list of pro and cons, you think it's still in here? The list?"

Flipping through the stack of brochures of out of state attractions, post-its and other lists she finds it, and begins to rattle of the list.

"Pros: The Canyons and arches, plenty of places to hike, low income-" she pauses glancing over the rest of the list.

"But it didn't matter, Colorado took the cake-"

"Because the rivers in Colorado flow back home." I cut in finishing her sentence.

Kissing my cheek Abbie shifts closer, resting her head on my shoulder before focusing back on the map.

"I want you to finish mapping out our road trip, finish filling out the spots in between you are still wanting to go." I gesture pointing to the stars she drew all that time ago.

"And when I come back we can visit all the places you originally marked and then some."

"I promise." Burying her head into my chest, she wraps her arms around mt back, pulling herself into my lap.

As we seat there on our bedroom floor, I heard her breathing catch, I felt to warmth of her tears pooling on to my shirt. So, I rocked her, rocked her until my tailbone was numb, rocked her until her tears stopped as she dozed off in my arms, rocked her until I had go.

"Abbie, sweetie, wake up. It's time for me to catch my flight." I whisper pushing back the silky brown waves that covered her face."

Stirring she slowly stands to feet, offering a hand to help pull me up. I take it, but don't use it, merely holding it just because. Because I wasn't ready to let her go.

"Here."

Turning, I watch her fight the rubber bands, pulling out the slim book resting perfectly between the stack.

"This belongs to you, it's my journal, from the day we first met on the porch, how handsome you were, I wrote about you every day Wyatt. Everyday. How I fell in love you, nights I battled, wanted to tell you, but got scared. I wrote speeches and speeches to read to you, so I didn't get hung up in fear. It's all there. I want you to take it with you to Afghanistan. I poured my heart out in those pages. Maybe you carrying my heart, is what guided you back to me in the first place. I want you to take with you, to keep my heart close so you can come back to me."

When we pull into the airport's parking lot the heaviness in my chest returns from earlier, the same heaviness that Abbie kissed away. But this time, it was accompanied by a nervousness I just can't seem to shake as we approach the terminal. The kind that just lingers around in your gut. A part of me thinks it would have been easier to have had an earlier flight, to pack the night before, wake up at three in the morning, and head out to catch a flight for five. Middle of the day departures are harder; you try so hard to go about your daily routine but constantly check the time and mope. Trying so hard to make the most of your last moments together, but yet not to waste time on anything by just sitting around and doing nothing. Having a constant dread and worry nipping at your back as the time slowly ticks closer and closer to goodbye.

Her hand in mind, we walk into the lobby and wait for the boarding announcements. As we come to a stop, were greeted by a few bubbly faces, and called by name followed with hugs from other members from my unit. A few other women cheerfully flock to Abbie introducing themselves, offering cookies and hugs, and exchanging phone numbers. It almost feels like I'm about to go on a fieldtrip sponsored by the School's PTA. Posters featuring red and blue marker, star cut-outs and homemade banners fill the lobby as other families begin to crowd in, matching the seasoned couples' positive attitudes of departure, who seem to really lighten the mood, making the most of our last 20 minutes together. As they smile and laugh, and their young children play with each other proudly holding their posters they made for mommy and daddy.

Weston and Alivia join the sendoff with about 15 minutes to spare before boarding.

"Hey guys! Sorry we are late; our parents surprised us and drove in! They wanted to meet up and see Weston before his big adventure!", Liv swoops in giving her both hugs, before digging in her purse.

"We were wondering were you both went this morning, I thought Weston may have been running away from his duty."

"Hey, Watch it! Someone's got to hold your hand over there, so you don't wet the bed!" Weston quickly chimes in to defeat himself. Earning him a round of genuine laughter from our group.

"Oh! Mama sent me with a gift and card for you Wyatt!", Liv remembers, before pulling out a small patriotic themed bag of assorted treats complete with spirals of ribbon and a pastel yellow envelope, handing each to Wyatt.

Turning it over, I start to tear open the edge, but the sting of Alivia swatting at my hand stops me in my tracks.

"Ah, what was that for?"

"Attt, she also said you were not allowed to open it until you made it to base." She tosses her hands up with a chuckle before I can counter back a response.

"Look, I'm just doing what mama said."

For the reminder of our time, we chat amongst one another, and for the first time in hours I'm able to watch Abbie's vibrant smile and laughter fill the room. Like I said, the calm before the storm. 

When the boarding call chimes through the hall.It's as if I could watch the bright colors fading from the patriotic posters, the glitter no longer seems to shimmer along the edges like second before and as if sweet laughter was merely sucked away, abruptly dissipating like it never existed. I watched as the children ran to their parents. As if that same boarding call were the sirens that blew back home, warning us to take cover when a hurricane makes landfall.

 Soldiers and wives began to gather, bowing their heads in prayer, offering extended hands to neighboring troops forming a big, united oval. Josie Murray, the Corporal's wife, and organizer of Abbie's support group clears her throat across the room before leading us in prayer. She stands no taller than 5 feet with heels, but to my surprise her voice seems to travel, echoing down the packed terminal, her tight black curls crowd her face as she lowers her head.

"Our dear and heavenly father,

We come to you today to ask that you watch over our loved ones as they fly out this evening, we pray for a safe trip, for good health, and that you guide them through this foreign land, providing protection and to act as their shield during their times of need and at times of weakness. We ask that you take away our fears and worries, as you bless us with your daily presence. We offer our hearts to you as you guide us all throughout this hardship that shall pass. In Jesus Christ name we pray Amen."

"Amen"

"Amen, Amen"

"God Bless You!" rumbles down the hall in waves, as our small group as well as bystanders supports our send off with teary eyes, roaring claps, and sadden cheers.

The last thirty seconds are the worst, when you finally have to break from your last embrace, it will be nine months until I can feel her warm skin against mine again, until I can smell her hair as it tickles my nose. I hate that I literally have to turn my back on her and walk into the boarding bridge. Abbie's grip was so tight as she clung to me, as her tears soaked the pocket of my shirt. We were the last to separate and I held her for as long as I could before Livi and Josie, had to pull her away. I took everything in me to let her go, to not hold her in my arms. It nearly broke me, see her tear-filled eyes peering into mine, knowing I was the reason.

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I could really use some insight on first time deployment, I feel pressure to write something so great on something I feel so strongly about...I fear i'm not truly channeling in those emotions just right, but I also fear letting you guys down, or coming off as insensitive for those whom have dealt with this.

MEET  THE BEAUTIFUL JOSIE MURRAY