Ghost Town Goodbyes

We received a phone call Friday night from one of Jone's Sergeants. He was offered a job up at Camp Roberts that would last 6 weeks and pay pretty well. We considered the offer, and decided it was something we wanted to go for, which meant talking to all of Jone's professor's and figuring out long distance schooling. This had to be accomplished by the following Wednesday. Four days, half of them on the weekend, was not a lot of time and I spent the weekend anxious and impatiently wanting to know our future.
We spent all of Tuesday united in our determination to work it out with his professor's, my baby belly only slowing us down a little, hand in hand, well aware that if it did work out this would be our last day together for a while.
Finally, by four in the afternoon we had an answer, and Jone's started packing while I went to a sleepover the Laurel's were having that night. We left early Wednesday morning, and had decided I would drive him up with his bike so that I would still have car available. This meant a full day of driving for me, 5 1/2 hours there and 5 1/2 back, but I was excited for my husband and enjoying our last few hours together. The last 3 1/2 hours of the drive was a long straight road with nothing but barren land around it. In my head I still pictured the base being close to a city and all the fun and conveniences Jones would need. I imagined it to be much like most military bases dull but a little city in and of itself.
It wasn't.
As it came into view my initial thought was these must be the older buildings, the ones they don't use anymore, because they were so weathered and well, in shambles really.
I was wrong again.
Ghost Town, are the only words that come to mind when I try and describe how the place looked and felt. It did not feel inhabitable. I was suddenly afraid of leaving Jones there. The image of Shia Labouf in the movie "Holes" popped into my head, like the moment I was out of site they would hand him a shovel and make him start digging.
I kept it together well enough until I caught a glimpse of his room. Tears just started coming out. How could I leave him in a place like that? and with only bike and the nearest "town" 10 miles away. Am I really that selfish that I would leave the person I love in a place where things have been left to just dwindle and die, and for what? some extra cash and comfort. Of course Jones insisted that he would be OK and what could we do at that point anyways, so we finished getting him settled in and after getting a better look at his room I realized it was quite as bad as I had thought. I still wanted to buy him a rug and new blankets for is bed.
We said our Goodbyes and I started my trip back.
Since then I have felt much better, and he has gotten a chance to buy groceries and realize his cable allowed him to watch his favorite show :) . I just pray that he will be safe and find a joy in what he is doing there. From past experiences I have learned that 6 weeks is not as long as it seems, or at least once they've gone by they are gone, and eventually Jones will be somewhere he calls home again with people who love him. Until then, God bless him for the sacrifices he is willing to make for his family.