I might have to take my reporter hat off this week, and talk a little bit about something more personal… but something that so many other people are going through in our nation.

In March of this year, I emceed an annual music showcase here in Fairbanks.  I hit it off with one of the bands that was featured—several members remain close friends, but the drummer happened to mean a lot more to me.  I had not been looking for a stolidly permanent arrangement in the love department, but what can I say? He had a car, a steady job, an education, he’s a good-looking guy, and we shared a lot of the same interests… and I genuinely enjoyed being around him. Aaron was, well, amazing. In late April we started dating, and had a great Alaskan spring, went to California on a trip together… I’ve met his family (and like them), I know his favorite color, we can throw lines from television shows back and forth at each other... We resolve disagreements quickly, and do a good job of not taking each other too personally if we’ve had a bad day.

All in all—I’ve got a fantastic boyfriend.

Unfortunately, I had to say good-bye to him yesterday.

Why, you ask?

Well, the thing I didn’t mention is that he’s a First Lieutenant in the United States Army (how’s that for a steady job?).  And, as part of what a great many military careers consist of right now—he’s heading out to Iraq.

I grew up in the Army; my dad was an infantryman for a large part of his career, and went to several places— Haiti, Rwanda, Congo, Syria, Saudi Arabia, and lots of other hotspots in the post-Cold War era. (Not to mention we as a family lived in Berlin from 1987 until the Wall fell in 1989.)  I dreaded his frequent departures.  It wasn’t until high school that I became relatively accustomed to it, and it didn’t shake me as much as previous deployments did.

My father’s deployments have helped prepare me for this—but it’s still completely different from any other feeling I’ve ever experienced.

I dropped Aaron off yesterday. It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. I won’t go into the details of the when/where/how, but in the parking lot where we said good-bye, I watched other families and girlfriends say good-bye… one of the hardest things was watching children say good-bye to mommy or daddy. It took me back to my childhood a little bit; I don’t remember getting overly emotional, and most of these children didn’t, either. I mean, when you grow up in the service and you’re pretty much used to one parent being around, your emotions adjust. But it’s still hard to watch children say good-bye like that.

As for my good-bye… I had a hard time keeping it together. I don’t think I have ever hugged Aaron tighter; I stood on my toes and buried my head in his shoulder. All morning I’d been at a loss for words; usually I’m a very, very talkative person, but for most of the morning I just could not think of anything to say. What do you say, really?... All I could do was cover my head on his shoulder and shut my eyes, and enjoy the safe darkness pressed against a DCU jacket, and mentally will 365 days to pass; because in 365 days, I’ll be in the same spot, wrapping my arms around him and burying my head in his shoulder, nose pressed against the DCU jacket. I’ll probably be crying again, but mostly because I’ll be overjoyed.

And that’s what I have to look forward to, and it means everything to me.

What’s comforting to me is the fact that I am not the first to go through this, and I’m not the last one to go through this, either.  I know I’ve got the support of my family and friends, Aaron’s family, and even Aaron will take time out of his busy schedule to write me, ask how my day is, and keep me up with how he’s doing. So far, he’s not intended for leaving the forward operating base to go out on patrol, so I’m very lucky, in that regard. (Of course, you never know—plans might change, and who knows if he might get shifted to a more combat-oriented focus?)

The emotions going through my head right now are a tad on the tumultuous side.  This weekend we cleaned out his apartment—he handed over the keys on Monday. You know that someone is leaving when he takes his posters down—yep, even the Batman one.

I’m sad and angry—but at the same time, if it wasn’t for the Army, I would probably have never moved to Alaska, and he definitely would not have, either. (Maybe this is a small price to pay on finding happiness with someone? Only time will tell.)

The trick to getting through this separation, not only for me but for everyone, will be to find something to do to occupy the 12 months that he’ll be gone.  (Granted, he’s coming home for R&R during this time, but it’s still a long time!)  I’m contemplating graduate school, quilting, cooking, working out (my goal is to get back to my high school weight while he’s gone—we’ll see what happens), working on dusting off Italian and French, scrapbooking, videomaking… maybe even blogging about this.  I’ll look forward to holidays and send him packages once a month.  There will be plenty of markers to move along with, I think.  In my day job, we have just hit what I call “busy season”… and it’s a time I actually love working in.  It’s a lot of fun.  I’m counting on time flying by quickly, with all of these things I have planned.

… a lot of this is me telling myself that this isn’t going to be so bad.  And then the next moment I reflect on how strange it will be to not have Aaron there to talk to and to hug and to go on car rides with.  It’s a battle of emotions...

… and it’s a battle that so many people are struggling with in this nation, whether loved ones are deploying in the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, or the National Guard.

Does this affect how I feel about this election?  It kinda does.  I refrain from giving you my opinion point-blank in this forum, but I will say that A happens to be in the same brigade that the son of Governor Sarah Palin—John McCain’s running mate in the presidential election—is in.  On a completely non-political note, I feel quite an affinity with her and her family; she will be amongst the wives, husbands, girlfriends, boyfriends, children, parents, siblings, friends, and families of those heading out.  John McCain knows what it's like to deploy, and have children deploy. Very son, Joe Biden's son Beau will be heading overseas in his Delaware outfit. Maybe they don't know what it's like to deploy a spouse, but you know what? It's still comforting that three out of the four candidates up for the big vote can remotely relate to me.

You know what?... I’m not alone. And that's what's making me feel a lot better.