3 weeks

Three weeks. 21 days. 504 hours. I won't get to see or speak to my husband for 3 weeks. That's a long time.

I knew this day was coming, but do you think I'm at all mentally prepared? Not a chance. Maybe if I wasn't all pregnant with crazy hormones, I would be able to go back to sleep after our 4:30 am send off. Instead I sit here in my dark, quiet house crying for the unknown and the loss of connection for 21 days.

If you know me at all, you know the entire reason we're in Alabama is so Dale can become a helicopter pilot for the Guard. It's been his dream since we met (and probably before) and I'm proud to support him. Today he left for what I would consider the worst part of his military training ever. I won't go into any of the details I know of until after he's done, but it's pretty much training for what happens if your helicopter goes down behind enemy lines. Things like survival, evading, resisting, and escaping.

The hardest part of this whole thing, is that I'll never know all the things he had to go through out there. It's seriously a felony for any of the guys who go through it to ever talk about some of the things they had to do/experience. That makes it all the more scary for me, and I'm sure him.

I understand the importance of it all, and I'll be grateful he's had this training if the worst case scenario ever plays out. But that doesn't make today any easier. Nor will it make the next 3 weeks go any quicker.

I pray God gives him the mental and physical strength to get through it. I hope that stubbornness that I love helps him to not quit when things get tough. Please help send some supportive prayers his way. Things are always better when you have Jesus by your side.