Harder Than I'm Sorry

People always say that it's hard to say you're sorry. I guess that it is, goodness knows that I hate to be wrong. Still, when I am, I woman up and admit it. It usually isn't too hard for me to say that I'm sorry.

Goodbye is the hardest thing for me to say. I hate goodbyes and as a Navy wife, I get to say a lot of them. All this time in the Navy, 11 years now, is starting to take it's toll. As I get older and my children get older, I find it harder and harder to make new friends. I look at the woman around me who have life long friends and I feel envy. I don't know what that is anymore. I don't feel any deep connections, instead, I find myself looking at each new person and wondering how long they will be in my life and whether or not they are worth the emotional labor of attempting to become their friend. I've become jaded.

Each new goodby just adds to the sorrow that I feel. It's like piling on in football - the first goodbye is bad and each successive one gets progressively worse. It's a sad fact of my reality that I really don't do change well, which is almost ironic considering how much I get to deal with on a fairly regular basis.

All things considered, last night was difficult. It was the Hail and Farewell for both our Weapons officer and our Captain. I like and admire both of their wives, and their shoes will be particularly difficult to fill. Our captains place will be almost impossible for anyone to fill in my eyes.

He's a truly good man. He's a good husband, a good father and a great leader (most of the time). I worried less for my husband's safety when he was in command because I trusted him to make the right decisions for the benefit of the entire crew. I'm sure that our new captain is a good man and a very capable individual, but trust takes a long time to earn.

So last night, we said yet another goodbye. eople seem to move in and out of my life in a rapid flurry and even though I won't foget them, my roots feel like they get shallower and shallower with each successive farewell. I long to be more firmly planted.

Looking for the Bubbles...

When you get disorientated under the water, you are supposed to check for the bubbles to see which way is up. Right now, in my life, I'm just looking for the bubbles because without them, I have no idea which way is up.
Life gets so hectic and crazy sometimes that all those little moments that make life magical seem to get lost in the shuffle. Here we are, caught up in the throwes of the latest goodbye, and all the little moments get lost in the shuffle of the checklist of "things to do."
I'm still waiting for my husband to get the phone calls to his family out of the way. I hate having that to look forward to. They always call at the worst possible time and then want to talk for hours.... My goodness, my nephew, who my husband hasn't even seen in over 3 years, has to say "goodbye" while my children wait patiently to get their time with their father. It's frustrating... and it's frustrating for him too. Still, nothing ever really changes.
I feel slightly less emotional this time as I wait for the inevitable. I guess in a short while the flood gates will open and I will be here all alone. It's better that way.
I hate feeling like world is spinning out of control, and I just want to hold up the "STOP!" sign. I'm looking forward to some sembelence of normal and balance to come back to my life, though I don't know what "normal" is most of the time, or when that may happen. I guess I will keep looking for the bubbles and try to figure out which way is up.