Martin called last night.
It was the first time we heard from him in almost two weeks.
Every time he’s called in the past, he always seemed a little disoriented about the dates. To him, the weeks have flown by; he’s been so busy. And with little access to the outside world and absolutely no access to the Internet, it’s been easy for him to lose track of the seasons and current events, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he didn’t immediately recall that our wedding anniversary is later this week, but he did.
He remembered, and wished me a happy anniversary right away.
Such a good man.
This is the first time in our marriage that we are apart on our anniversary.
Last year, we renewed our vows in a small ceremony with our family and friends in Cincinnati. At the time, we were feeling pretty settled and in a good place — in our 30s with three kids and a nice house and steady income, living the dream — and we wanted to celebrate the milestone of keeping it together for a whole decade.
At that moment one year ago, Martin joining the military again was not on our radar.
But there we were then, and here we are now.
Communicating through sporadic letters and phone calls.
Disconnected as we individually deal with stressful situations.
Despite all that, though, I feel like we’re experiencing a different type of renewal this year.
And it’s not a benchmark, but a beginning.
So I’m not disappointed at all with our circumstances this anniversary.
Because even on the days when I’m overwhelmed and feel like an unbearable clamp is on my heart from the frustration and loneliness, I feel so confident that we’re right where we’re supposed to be.