Iron Swords: The Emotional Roller Coaster

110 days of reserve duty. I do not know exactly how many of those days he was actually not home. It doesn’t matter, because even when he would be, he was just visiting and not living at home. His heart and soul were not at home. In many ways, by no fault of his own, he ceased to be my husband.

140 days ago we were on cloud nine. Granted, I could say the same for 110 days ago. 140 days ago we were leaving our friends’ wedding and on our way to our own belated honeymoon; thanks Covid-19. 110 days ago we were with these same friends celebrating chag. Everything changed in an instant. And it has been some of those small instant changes, for the better and for the worst, that have marked these last 110 days; day by day, hour by hour.

130 days ago was the last time I took birth control. We were excited to start a family. We barely even had a chance to, when he was ripped away from home, from me.

I never thought of myself as dependent on a man. I was always Miss Independent. By the time I was born, my siblings were out of the house. By the time I reached middle school my mother went back to school and I was cooking my own dinners, sometimes I would even cook for my father. When my husband and I started dating he was still in the army and while I was falling in love with him, I never felt like I needed him. But then he was gone.

That first week is actually the most vivid. Especially that Shabbat. I was with family as he awaited orders on the border. That Saturday night I was supposed to get my first period since getting off birth control, but it never came. At first I was excited, I thought maybe the few times we had been intimate before he left were successful. But I knew that was just wishful thinking.

Unfortunately, after 24 blissful hours, once again he was gone. This time it was even harder. This time it was clear that this wasn’t going to be over within a month. This time we knew he might be sent to fight. We knew this might be the last time we see each other. As he stood in the door hugging me, I thanked Hashem for the time we had together.

Three weeks passed. Still no period. Still no man. Over the course of weeks I became depressed, I couldn’t focus. I tried to get everything in the house done, most of the things that I usually took care of as it was, and yet without him, everything became more difficult to achieve.

Sometimes everything worked out just perfectly. One week he had been home Sunday and mikveh was on Wednesday. I couldn’t stop thanking Hashem for bringing me another small high on the roller coaster of war.

On my way home I almost cried thinking about how once again, like every other mikveh night of the war I was going home to an empty apartment. But as I walked through my door my tears turned to ones of joy. I opened the door to find a line of candles and rose petals to the center of the living room, where he stood still in uniform but without a gun – he had returned!

Needless to say, his surprise put me over the moon. We had one of the most intimate nights we have ever had. I am grateful to Hashem for allowing this night to be the end of this crazy roller coaster known as Iron Swords. And who knows, maybe Hashem has blessed us in more ways than one – I guess I’ll find out in about a month.