By Dawn Schultz

I wasn’t naivé going into this. I’ve seen dozens of Lifetime holiday movies showing a sad young woman sitting alone in the dark by a Christmas tree, praying that Santa would somehow find a way to bring her deployed husband home for the holidays.
In the movies, the handsome man in uniform always comes walking through the door at the perfect moment to hugs and tears. Believe it or not, that doesn’t happen in real life.
Last March, after years of mostly long distance dating, I married the love of my life.
He also happens to be a United States sailor. I also love the late fall and winter holidays. I looked forward to a Thanksgiving celebrated on the right day with home cooked food that didn’t end with a sad airport goodbye.
I could not wait to finally have a Christmas that didn’t require strategic gift buying that managed to magically fit in a suitcase, meet TSA guidelines, and that would be enjoyed. Like any lovesick newlywed, I especially looked forward to a midnight kiss on New Year’s Eve.
I’ll save you the drawn out story, but through a series of unexpected twists, my husband broke the news to me that the Navy was going to have us apart for every single holiday, birthday, and anniversary during the first year of our marriage.
Fast forward a few weeks into his deployment. I had settled into a routine that included work, taking care of our puppy, and checking my email an embarrassing number of times each day, and before I knew it, Christmas decorations were popping up in stores. For the first time in my life, I didn’t mind seeing these displays set up obnoxiously early.
I had heard horror stories about packages taking months to arrive and wanted to make sure that my husband would have something to open. His first Christmas package was mailed in early November.
Six days later, I got an email thanking me for the Christmas gifts and cookies. The local post office had gone into warp speed on this one.
I panicked at the thought of being the only wife who couldn’t get a present to the ship at the appropriate time, and headed back to the store for ‘Operation Christmas in a Box,’ round two.
I won’t say that I overreacted, but my husband also received no fewer than eleven Christmas cards from me last year.
I quickly realized that I had no idea how to approach the holidays “correctly.”
I was fortunate that my parents were able to fly out to spend Thanksgiving with me, which made a huge difference.
While visiting, my mom casually offered to help put up a Christmas tree and some lights.
That night, I spontaneously hid my tree and ornaments behind the water heater in my apartment when I realized I would have to take it down later by myself.
I also flew back to my hometown on Christmas Eve. A sweet elderly woman noticed my wedding ring and asked me why I was alone for Christmas.
I smiled and responded that my husband was deployed and I was going to visit family. She immediately burst into tears, so I awkwardly tried to comfort her.
This would become a trend over the next week of visiting with extended family members and old friends.
I appreciated the support, but more often than not, I was smiling and nodding through their teary sentiments, while thinking, “Please stop talking so I can go eat that last slice of pie.”
The holiday season played mind games with me. My husband affectionately refers to me as Business Barbie due to my typical “no time to cry” mindset.
I’m just not typically an emotional person. I spent New Year’s Eve with my in-laws and my best friend, and we ended up at a sports bar, laughing and playing pool.
During the midnight countdown, my father-in-law gave me a hug and said “I wish he could be here for this.” For some reason, that was the moment everything hit me. You get some interesting looks from intoxicated individuals when you burst out crying in the middle of a crowded bar.
In the end, I learned that however I chose to make it through the holiday season was fine. There’s a reason that there’s no guidebook for situations like this.
I reminded myself that next year would be much better and embraced that time in my life for what it was and enjoyed it the best I could.
This year, my husband is here. I’m driving him crazy between pulling him through the Christmas aisles, weeks before Thanksgiving and chattering about ideas for decorating our house. I’m loving every minute of it.

The Bond/Last Look is a monthly column and your contributions are wanted. Share your stories of military service and your photographs taken while in the military. Send them to lkelly@soundpublishing.com or call 360-308-9161, ext. 5050.