Finally, after what seemed to be the longest, almost year of my life. The struggle and loneliness have come to an end.
The Husband has returned home!!!!!
I can not express my emotions adequately enough on my elation at this fact.
No more single parenting. No more sleeping alone. No more lonely dinners. No more taking out the trash :). No more ignoring broken things :). No more having to change all the dirty diapers :).
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| This is the sign we made in Ean's room |
The night, of the day I picked him up was totally awesome! For the first time since Ean's birth we got to be a family together in our own home. Our own environment and it was great! The day of the day I picked him up was, well lets just say not quite smooth sailing.
Since the day my husband left for his 10 month deployment, when I was big
big big and pregnant, he said the same thing over and over. "When I come home, do not be late!" This being because I would have our son, who would be between 9 and 10 months old. Husband left May 1st, Ean was born the 19th. He missed almost the first year of his life. He would not except me being late under any circumstances. He likes to say that I am always late picking him up from his deployments which is not entirely true. I can not help it if they arrive earlier than expected or if they switch the pick up location or you tell me to be at this hanger but wind up exiting the plane directly behind the hanger. Anyway, the point is. This time I could not, I would not be late! This time it was way to important.
So, I got up early that morning. Prepped the meal I was to feed my husband upon his return. Ignored my house work completely and spent two hours getting myself ready. Dressed the boy. Packed up everything I would need over the next 4-5 hours. Loaded it all in my dads truck and we took off two hours early. Dad wanted to go and get gas from Sam's beforehand. I said no! We were going straight there, and nothing extra was happening until The Husband was within my grasp.
Okay so Fast forward through the hour drive there.....
I'm sure most of you realize that to enter a military base every person in the car must have a form of I.D. and if your Navy a base sticker on your car. My father being retired military of course has a military I.D. As does my mother because she is his spouse. So as he is making a right hand turn that will bring us to the base gate just ahead. I tell him that he will need to get his I.D. out. He decides that its a good idea to start digging in his pocket to remove his I.D while driving.
This is not a good idea.
Why is this not a good idea? Because my father is 81 years old and has absolutely no regard for anything else that goes on around him. He does what he wants, when he wants and that is that! And at this moment it is the other motorists and the fact that he is on a busy road that he directs this lack of regard toward. Charlie just stops. In the middle of the road! Apparently driving and the wallet search was proving to be to much to coordinate at the same time. You would think that since we were in a vehicle on a busy road that driving would have won out. But, no. Not with Charlie. The wallet and retrieving his I.D. became the dire task. Even though upon reaching the gate, it is a mandatory stop and it would have given him ample opportunity for his retrieval. But in Charlie's mind, traffic could just wait. He would be prepared, upon reaching the gate! (Let me just say that under normal circumstances, I love this about my father. He cracks me up and is the coolest guy around. Just not this day!)
Now, I have absolutely no perception of distance. But up ahead of us, I'd say maybe 200-300 feet away one of four guards has stepped out from underneath the guard shack and is very avidly waving for my dad to move his big truck forward. In addition to this my mother and I are also telling him at the same time that he can not stop in the street!
"Daddy, you have to move." I say.
"Charles, you can't stop here, look they are waving at you to move forward"
Charlie stays put, he is just now getting out his wallet.
"Go, Dad! Go!" I say.
"Charles you can get your I.D. out at the gate, they will wait for you. Go forward!" my mom says.
The man at the gate by now has walked even further out from under the guard post and is standing in the middle of the lane. He is fiercely waving his arm in much larger, agitated motions. The other guards are standing closer to one another and appear to now be in discussion. Just taking a stab in the dark here, but I'm assuming my father's non-moving truck is probably the topic. I'm silently praying to myself that they can see he is just an older gentlemen trying to fish out his I.D. card and they are not making plans to have us swarmed.
Finally he has his I.D. in hand and bears down on the gas. Because there is no easing on the gas with Charlie. We pull up to the guard gate and the first guard, the one who just about threw his arm out of socket moments earlier waves us to pull up to the next guy, my dad takes this as a go. So as the next guard steps up to be ready for our I.D. check my dad just holds his I.D. up and without even looking in his direction, keeps going. My mother and I simultaneously yell "Stop!!" He ignores this at first and keeps going. Again we yell to stop and this time the guard has also joined in on our tune. "Hey, Hey, Hey" he yells.
The truck stops and the guard is staring in at my dad. I can tell he is trying to asses this situation. "Roll the window down, sir" he says. Little does he know that my dad is already staring at the control panel on his door and it's gonna be a good 40 seconds before a window budges.
My dad has owned his truck for about 6 years maybe, and he still has to stare at the control panel to decide which button to push every single time. Without even moving his hand to a button mind you, nope that comes after the mental decision is made. Whether it be locks are windows, he will have a stare down first. If you go somewhere with him in the rain and he is picking you up. Be prepared to get drenched because he will not even think to look at the control panel until you are standing next to the passenger side yelling at him to unlock the door and then while you are melting, comes the 40 second stare down. He will also let down at least two of the four windows first before he gets the right one. Every. Single. Time. Finally, the right button is hit and it rolls down. He hands over his I.D. then hands over mine and moms. The guard looks at them and hands them back.
He says "Alright Sir, your sticker is expired and I can't let you on without a new one, you can turn around here and go to that building right over there, and they can get you a new sticker or a one day pass"
Charlie says "I don't need one at Keesler or Shelby"
"No sir, but this is a Navy Base and we still require them, I can't let you on without it. You'll just need your insurance card and title and they'll get you what you need."
My dad looks out his front windshield and proclaims "ain't this some s***!" and a few other pleasantries.
I already knew this about the sticker, but we had plenty of time to get what we needed and make it to my allocated pickup spot. So we U turn and after a few other almost driving debacles are sliding into the handicapped parking space directly in front of the building that will easily issue us a sticker.
Dad opens his wallet to remove his insurance card. Mom opens the glove box to remove the title to his truck. Dad pulls out his insurance card, it expired in February. Lovely. Mom pulls out his title folder, the most current one is 2009. Grand. I feel a thick sludge rising up my throat. This is not happening! "Daddy! Are you Serious?!! How do you not have these things?" I tell my mom to go in with him because I just can't. "I'll see what I can do" she says. So they exit the vehicle leaving Ean and I alone and the feeling of "this is bad" swirling thick in the now stifling air of the truck.
Fifteen minutes later, I see mom hot stepping it down the side walk. No Charlie.
Crap! The word instantly coming to my mind. She opens my door and confirms my feelings when she says "It isn't good" (Those were really her exact words) and shows me a post it note with a number written on it. I look at her.
"Okay" she says "they can't let us on base without the current forms but they said you can call a cab, we just have to make sure to tell them to send a cab that has clearance to get on base."
"Your Serious, I'm suppose to call a cab to take me and Ean on base?" my words exit my mouth in disbelief.
"I'll pay for it. Your daddy and I will stay out here" mom says.
1st thought: I. Can. Not. Believe. This!
2nd thought: He. Is going. To kill. Me!
3rd thought: Really? They"ll let a cab on base because it has a sticker, but not my dad's truck without one and he is a retired military officer?
4th thought: He is gonna kill me!
5th thought: Where is dad?
"Where is dad? I asked my mom, hoping she would just say he went to the bathroom.
"oh, he is in there telling them what BS this is and asking to see the commander. You know your father."
Yes, I did know my father. And as chills broke out over my body and the sludge began working its way up my throat again at the thought of my poor unsuspecting husband in a room facing a firing squad for the crimes of his father-in-law. I looked forward and thankfully, mercifully the heavens decided to smile down upon me at that moment. Charlie was exiting the building. *
heavy sigh..
However, I didn't know what to do. I really only knew and had the number of two other people that could get me on base. I tried one, no answer. I knew it was a slim shot because she was working. I tried the second, no answer. I sat motionless for a moment. Disappointment and dread making a strange cocktail in my stomach. My mom stood to my right, trying to figure out a way to make it all work out. My dad, in the front seat still grumbling at how preposterous this all was. Then it hit me like a light. The ombudsman, stupid girl! Call the ombudsman! and so I did. I told her of my predicament and she said. "oh my, I'll call you right back" A few minutes later that sweet sweet angel rang back and said someone would be coming after me. THANK YOU JESUS! VERY LITERALLY! I was going to make it. He wasn't going to kill me! Ean would be there I would be there and most importantly he wasn't going to kill me!
It was not a good day to die, it was to windy....
The Reluctant Domestic
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| No point, he is just adorable :) |
*Fleetwood Mac on my Itunes.
