Another Year of Marriage, Another Year of Life

This post is either a day late, or two days early. For my sake, I’d like to think of it as being early, as I’m usually not on top of my game and would like to be for once. Without further ado then, happy anniversary and birthday, Melissa! On 04 September 2005, Melissa and I stood at the altar at her home church in Yucaipa and promised to spend the rest of our days together. While not yet in the military, we knew that I was transitioning from chaplain candidate to chaplain, from IRR to active duty and yet she never wavered in taking the leap into becoming a Navy wife. Three days later, we celebrated her birthday while honeymooning at a cabin tucked in the redwood-forested hills of Northern California.

As many of you know, I joined the battalion while they were deployed to Okinawa, Japan. We arrived in Port Hueneme the afternoon of Good Friday, 2006. After checking in with the homeport liaison, we spent Easter weekend with her family in Yucaipa. Returning late Sunday, we settled down into the Navy lodge while I started basic Seabee training. On Wednesday or Thursday, we signed on to live in base housing. Our household goods arrived on a Friday afternoon. I left at 0430 on Saturday, headed for Japan, leaving Melissa with a house full of boxes. When I returned home two months later, she had made the empty house into a home, a place of welcome and refuge. After a homeport where I worked way too many late hours and didn’t spend as much time with her as I should have, I was once again on a plane headed out on deployment, this time to Iraq. Days after I left, Melissa, nearly two months pregnant, began to have morning sickness. She experienced the high and lows without me there to comfort her. Yet she kept our home in good order, paying bills, taking care of pets, preparing a nursery for our little one; all without the support she deserved. She also somehow found time to serve as the Chair of Volunteers for the Navy-Marine Corps Relief Society, helping out our shipmates when their financial situations overwhelmed them. When I returned home in time for the last month of her pregnancy, I once again came home to a place of joy, of peace, of quiet rest.

On Thanksgiving Eve, Melissa went into labor. Thirty-six hours later, our daughter finally made her entrance into this world. I was able to take breaks, taking naps on the combo chair-bed. I even watched the traditional Detroit Lions football game on Thanksgiving Day. Meanwhile, Melissa labored. A devoted mother, the next few months found my beloved wife sticking with her plan to breastfeed even when it hurt. Instead of buying disposable diapers and cans of baby food, she stuck by her vow to raise a healthy, happier, more environmentally-friendly baby. As a result, Miss Sarah Rose had (and still has) a cloth-covered bum and fresh food made for her every day. While I went off to work, Melissa stayed behind to take care of Sarah, while also keeping the mounds of laundry from turning into mountains. As I prepared to leave for this deployment, home remained a place of strength and happiness for me.

Now, as I sit here in Kuwait, Melissa continues to bear the brunt of keeping our little family and our little world intact. Instead of unpacking while I’m gone, she’s coordinated with movers to come and pack-up our stuff. She’s planned out our itinerary for our move up to our next duty station. She’s taken the lead for finding us a place to stay when we get there.

In short, Melissa is the glue that keeps our family together. She works as hard as I do, probably harder. Sometimes I wish that she were out in the marketplace, bringing in a second paycheck to ease our finances. Yet I know that ultimately more money won’t make us any happier. What Melissa does for our family as a wife and mother is worth so much more. Thank you, Melissa for always being there for our little family; for being a source of strength. I admire your thoughtfulness, your grace and your compassion. I hope and pray that the next three years of our marriage will be as fruitful and fun (but hopefully a little quieter and slower) as the first three.

Happy Anniversary, my love!
Happy Birthday, my darling!