Please Don't Tell Me

Often, I think our military spouses forget that we worry. We cope so well, generally speaking, that they tell us many details about things that we would rather not hear.

Tonight, I bring you some of them:

*  We had to stop training for a bit because someone mixed in live bullets with the training rounds.

*  Our flight was delayed because parts kept breaking.

*  Our flight got canceled because of too many mortar attacks.

*  There is a $15k bounty (US dollars) on dog handlers.  $20k if they got the dog, too.

*  Oh, that noise...it's just mortars coming in.

*  In-depth details about how a fellow soldier was injured...especially during R&R, after which that wife's soldier returned to battle.

*  Didn't I tell you that our MRAP hit an IED?

*  When we first got there, we didn't have showers for 45 days.  ("As the woman who washes his socks after ONE day...yeah, I don't even like to think about that!")

*  When asked why the flight suit smelled odd, he said they had to land in a freshly fertilized field due to smoke and oil in the cockpit.

*  Going to be late tonight...  Soldier thought hand sanitizer would make him drunk, not poisoned.

*   Absent-mindedly showing photos "This is my vehicle after we hit an IED".  An IED the spouse didn't know about.

*  Me and the PLT Sgt had a sniper bullet go right between us!

*  On the phone-- BOOM  "Love you, gotta go".  Then nothing for several days.


I was told I shouldn't ask for these stories, that they violate OPSEC (Operations Security).  I was told that these should be kept secret, between a husband and a wife.  I was told that I was a troll, an internet person who was just trying to stir up trouble.

None of these is necessarily true.  They weren't private admissions, they certainly don't violate OPSEC, and I am no troll.

After hearing these comments, I really had to think about what I set out to do by asking the question "what has your Soldier told you, that you'd prefer to not have heard?"   My goal, truthfully, was to bring a little bit of humor to something that isn't funny.  The humor isn't in the stories themselves, although one woman wrote about her very pale, very tall soldier running in only a teeny towel while bullets flew.  (The mental image of that makes me laugh.)  The humor is in the offhand "oh, yeah, I thought I told you" way we hear most of these things.  The humor is in the guileless presentation of something that, to a soldier, is a fact of life.

Thanks for reading, if you got this far.  I love comments, and feedback, and followers.  :)

You Are Always Here

You tell me how much you wish you could be with us, how it seems you can never be here when scary things happen and I must stand on my own.

But you are wrong, dear one.  You are always here.

When my pet was old and ill and quaking, and I had to let her go-- it was your arms I felt around me as I held her one final time.

When we rushed to the ER after Little G fell to the concrete with a concussion, it was your voice that steadied me.

When Big G's pet was failing, we both felt you with us.

During what Big G termed "a conga line of doctors" recently, it was your messages and voice that kept us going, helped us to remain hopeful.

We ate M&Ms with you in spirit, even if you weren't the one who poured them for us.

We celebrate good news and bad news with you at all times.  When you can't be here physically, it is harder-- but you are here.

You are always here.

When I make the drive home, I feel you in the seat beside me.  It is "our" music I listen to, and our jokes that the kids and I repeat.  It is your voice I hear in my head as we decide when to stop, and what is safe.

There are things that you would usually do, that are now my responsibility.  I try to do them as you would, or ask for help, so your presence is still felt and still strong.   When I am tired and the day is long and it is tempting to do a half-baked job, I remember how tired you must be, how your spirit aches-- and I finish the task.

I never want you to come back home and feel like you have to fix what I have done, or spend your precious time here making up for any time you feel you've lost.

I just want to see your smile, and feel your hug, and hear your laughter unsullied by the hesitation of phone lines.

Part of the Army life is knowing that hard times, and good times, will come.   Kids don't hold off on emergencies because of training or deployments; if anything, they seem more prone to disaster as soon as we receive those orders.  Concerts, parent-teacher meetings, graduations and school dances -- time is the truly unfailing Soldier, marching forward without pause.

But you are always with me.  The seat next to me at a concert may be empty, the teacher may not see you, but your strength and your love and your influence are always with me and always with our girls.  We have lived this life for 22 years now, and while sometimes I have felt lonely for your touch and your smile-- I am never alone.  I have learned to gather close our moments together so they are stored within me, the memories strong enough to hold me close when you cannot.  This can be a lonely life, true, but I don't want you to think that we do anything truly alone.

I want you here with me for all the big things, too.  Physically here, and holding our hands.  I am not so strong that I could really do this alone.  You are here, and you are supporting us, no matter where the Army tells you to lay your head.

You are always with me.

It Didn't Go Off As Planned

It's not just Soldiers who deal with flashbacks, fear, and the aftereffects of war.  I asked a fellow Army spouse to let me share her story, and that of her Soldier.  I think it is high time that we share the stories, from both sides of the uniform.

Loraine M. writes--

It was six years ago this April. I still can't watch a vehicle explosion in movies (like the humvee/ambush scene in Iron Man) without cringing and remembering that morning so incredibly clearly. If anyone ever thinks that the Soldier is the only one to deal with the trauma, they've never lived this life or walked in our shoes. 

April, 2006 - 2:45 am Fort Hood time, 11:45 am Baghdad time. (9 hour time difference)

I woke up because I heard his pillows fall off of the bed. I get up, pick them up and place them back where they would be if he were home. I look at the time, thinking maybe this a little sign that he's online or has sent me an email. I check, nothing. No IM. No email. Nothing. Not a peep. Just an eerie feeling that troubles me when I try to go back to bed. 

I finally fall asleep with my phone on his pillow, only to wake up to the alarm buzzing away on the table beside the bed. I get up, wake the kids and help them get their breakfast. At the time, they were 4 and 9. I remember their sleepy faces. 

I peeked briefly at the computer screen that I left on with the Yahoo Messenger running constantly so I didn't miss him. He was there. I clicked the button to accept the call."I need to talk to you." Something in his voice was off. He was tense and I could hear it. He needed to say it. "I have to take the kids to school; I'll be back in a few minutes." 

I wasn't sure that I wanted to hear what was next with the kids in the next room. I remember the errie feeling clinging to me that morning, though I couldn't explain it. I remember every step while walking them to school. I remember telling myself that morning that one foot after another would get them there and bring me home and then I could figure it out when I talked to him. I walked them to the front door of the school, hugged them and kissed them, told them that "Mommy and Daddy love you very much!" "Have a great day!" I'm sitting here years later and I can hear the echoing words. 

I walked home, stumped. Unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Halfway home, my phone rang. Pulling it out of my pocket, I noticed the long awkward phone number that start with 9... Sigh of relief. Confirmation that he was ok. But the truth is, he wasn't. Not completely and he never would be. 

"At 11:45 this morning our time, we hit an IED. It picked up my truck and slammed it down. It didn't go off as planned apparently and I'm ok." 

Didn't go off as  planned, he said. Like it was nothing. The timing was of huge significance. The moment his pillows fell off of our bed in our Fort Hood home, all hell was breaking loose for him in Baghdad. 

They didn't lose a single one that day, minus the vehicle he was driving. What happened immediately afterwards resulted in the General putting them all in for a Bronze Star that those below E6 were denied by a LTC who said those awards aren't for the "lower" enlisted. (That's why that phrase pisses me off, by the way.) 

He finished the deployment with back pain now and then after the IED. We chalked it up as having to wear all that armor on a daily basis. Later we found out that the armor had actually kept it compressed. When he got home and the armor wasn't a daily part of his wardrobe, that's when everything went to hell. He collapsed in PT at Hood. 

A few months later, we PCSed. He went through months of unsuccessful physical therapy, while still trying to do his job. Almost a year after returning from Iraq, I drove him to a hospital, where a last resort surgery removed 20-some% of the  vertebrae that had been smashed together as a result of the explosion. 

Up to that point, nothing was working. He was stumbling and falling when he walked. He was slowly losing the use of his left leg. He never received a Purple Heart, though his injuries are documented to be caused by the explosion that happened in Iraq. He doesn't want it. He was just doing his job. Apparently though, there were some who gave him hell because a PH would have proved to them that he was actually "blown up". Whatever. 

I watched him stumble and fall knowing there was nothing I could do to help him, except be there to put him back on his feet. I heard him whimpering in pain in his sleep. I wondered every day if his fight to stay in the Army was worth it. I wanted to throttle other spouses who had the gall to ask about buying their spouses out of their enlistment contracts while we were doing everything possible and he was fighting to stay in the Army he still loves today. 

Six months after surgery, he passed his PT test and worked his way back to pre-IED condition. A year later, the Army picked him for DS duty. I worried the entire 9 weeks of school about him aggravating the injury. I worried through combatives where they threw him on the ground or when they punched him repeatedly in the face. He never stopped. He refused to quit. He finished DS duty in December of 2011 as one of the most respected DS's in the BN. And now here we are back in what we lovingly call "normal Army life" with another deployment looming over our heads for next year. It's his job, he says and yet in my mind I still hear the words...

"It didn't go off as planned." And I'm scared all over again. 

There's a small part of our Army journey. I've been thinking about it off and on since Casey posted "Letter to a FriendWhose Husband is Deployed" and again when he started watching Iron Man a little while ago. I had to walk away from the beginning of the movie. I thought typing it out would help. But at least I can share it with others who understand.

Not everyone who deserves one, gets one.

Deployment Brain

I don't know about anyone else, but I like to be organized.  I have (too) many calendar apps, reminder apps, and a paper calendar that hangs in the kitchen.   I also have a weekly planner calendar white board that keeps me on track for meals and that week's appointments.

Hence, forgetting an appointment is embarrassing.  Thinking that a meeting is one day when it's really another, also embarrassing but thankfully salvageable if checked in time. I tend to be on the ditzy side sometimes, but the biggest time I forget things is when my brain is just...full.

Full of school.  My G likes to share the story of the taco meat I browned during finals week.  He came into the kitchen to find a little Mt. Etna of seasoning piled onto the rapidly-cooling meat, but no Casey.  I'd emptied the packet, and seemingly wandered off to do something else.

Full of children.  Many moms know what I mean.  Your head gets full of kid stuff, especially if they're sick or going through something stressful/big/momentous/weepy.  All sorts of other things get sort of muddled in there and we lose track.

And...full of the deployment.  I think I've reached the point in this one where I am thinking "oh my gosh, will it ever end?"  That usually happens after about 6-8 weeks, and it goes away and life goes on.  But that period of forgetfulness, of stress, of "am I completely losing my mind" frustration-- sigh, it takes some serious patience.

Patience with ourselves, that is.  I'm trying to tell myself the things I would tell anyone who is a little frazzled.

Self-care, stay hydrated, eat well and regularly, go for a walk.

You know what?  Those tips work pretty well.  In the meantime, I sure appreciate those around me who have been through this period of "duh" before, and made it out.  I appreciate the laughter as people share their own stories.  And I know eventually, I'll be back on track.



P.S. Does anyone else go through periods of intense "duh" when you're normally pretty focused?   Tell me your funniest stories.  :)

Tuesday's Ten

I have a friend (and fellow blogger-- check her out HERE -- who says that Murphy must actually be a woman, because no man has ever given her as much grief as this B----.

So, I'll call the "lady" Murphina, just like my friend does.

Listen up, Murphina.  Listen good.

1.  Look, no pets this time, okay?  Both deployments, I had to take a sweet old girl to the vet and say goodbye.  Both deployments, my heart broke.

2.  You can leave my kids alone too.  Sure, one is pretty independent.  But she's miles and miles from home and I miss her and can't just go and help her.  So leave her alone.

3.  That means the little one, too.  First day he's gone on this thing and you send her home in tears because some little miscreant is bullying her?  Uh-uh.  No way.

4.  I know your tricks.  I know when he leaves, you like to play with the car and the plumbing and all of that.  Stop it.

5.  For my part, I'm going to the gym.  I'll either do it at home (yay, Wii!) or I'll find out that the circuit gym really does give a deployment discount.

6.  In case you can't read between the lines, that means leave me alone.

7. Stay the heck away from my husband, too.

8.  And our parents.  Oh for all that is holy...Murphina, keep your nasty little trouble-making hands off our parents.  Yes, stuff happens.  Wait til he's home and we can deal with it together.

9.  Or better yet, go away,  Shrivel up.

10. Remember...I'm watching you, Murphina.  And I am stronger than you could ever be.

[11.  Please don't take this as a dare.  :)  ]

Rituals

This morning I was thinking about the normal pre-field, pre-deployment rituals.  The known ones (getting orders, packing bags), and the lesser-known.

• The Pre-leaving Head Shave.  Since I do My G's hair, this is a big one for me.  It's a tighter, shorter haircut than usual, and honestly reminds me of when he came home from Basic and we first met. 
• The Packing. While watching him pack is painful, it also brings to mind happy memories.  When Big G was very little, he would have her stand in or jump in the top of the duffel bag to make sure he could get the top closed.  She would always help him pack.  
• The Silence. Before leaving, every Soldier has his way of turning the focus to work.  I know his mind is elsewhere, on packing lists and details and the Army.  I'm sure I'm not the only one to say I hate it.  
• The Irritation.  The days preceding the mission are among the hardest to take, as both sides of the couple find themselves a little more tense, a little more inclined to argue. Normal...still sucks.
• The Big Clean.  I don't know if mine is the only one who does this, but My G always puts things away and organizes his stuff before leaving.  All clothes cleaned, closet cleaned up, office things organized.  I deeply appreciate that he does this, but the ritual itself makes me a little sad.
• The Last FRG Meeting.  In our case, because it's a nontraditional "away," the last one was also the first and only.  But there is still a certain "Rah, Team!" and bravery to the smiles.  It builds us up, helps us all touch base, and as one of the leaders said, it helps us have a face for that name when we are calling.  

What are your family's rituals?  How do you cope?  Let me know in comments.

Tuesday's Ten-- It Costs THAT Much?

Today my head is reeling with dollar signs.  The first few things that happened are all very good things and I am looking forward to some new challenges and experiences.  The others...not so much.

1.  As of today, I'm helping in our local library.  I love books, I love reading, I love helping people.  Great combo.

2.  I have also met the Deputy Commander for My G's group that deploys shortly.  Unless told otherwise by others who haven't weighed in yet, I'm now their newest FRG leader.

3.  What the heck have I gotten myself into...

4.  Funny...throw in some information about ACS, vFRG knowledge, FRG classes I've taken, and it makes me seem very capable.

5.  Still...what the heck have I gotten myself into...

6.  Then I take the car in to have a teeny scratch and dent (about an inch long?) looked at for an estimate.  I'm thinking, at worst, a couple hundred dollars.  The estimate, including our special two-step paint and all labor, is $900.

7.  I'll repeat-- $900.  Really??

8.  In this same day, perhaps we should not have gone to find out how much it will cost to have carpet put into two bedrooms.  300 or so square feet, total.  We're thinking a couple-few hundred dollars there, too, and it looks like a good bet for a Christmas makeover.

9.  That estimate, including free installation and military discount, is over $900 too.

10.  I'll repeat-- $900.  Really??  For two bedrooms?  Insane.

So-- Why Thank A Spouse?

A friend of mine, also the spouse of an active duty Soldier, clued me in to a discussion about thanking a spouse on Veteran's Day, or any other day.  

On Veteran’s Day, we acknowledge and thank our Veterans and our active duty military members for their service.  Sometimes, I get a “thank you, too!” as a spouse.  It always makes me smile.  Sometimes it catches me off guard, because most of the time I don’t think about it.

But I appreciate the word of thanks.

And I think any spouse of a service member deserves it.

Some disagree—I’m fine with that.  That's their right.  But I’d like to explain why it is important to acknowledge these spouses.

I am the spouse of an active duty Soldier. 

I don’t sleep in a tent.

I don’t carry a gun.

I don’t get multiple vaccinations for God-knows-what.

My life is not going to be on the line.

I am not given orders that I must obey without flinching. 

While my behavior can reflect positively or poorly on my Soldier, I will not get formal reprimands for the people I talk to or the way I look.

So…why thank a spouse?  What do we do?

We’re the ones who help the Soldiers stay focused. 

We bring them back from the brink, when no one else is close enough to see how much they hurt.

We give them something to come back to, a reason to fight in the first place.

We hug them, when the world is so cold.

We keep their finances and their homes and their lives running—so they can focus on staying alive. 

While the average citizen is sleeping comfortably, we are up all night talking to our Soldiers. 

Or simply up all night, praying.  Because there has been a blackout of all communications.

Or up all night, bathing a child who has the stomach flu and only wants their other parent.  

You know, the other parent who is protecting the country.

How is this different from being a single parent?  Well, I addressed that in “Single Mom? Hardly” last month.

But what do we do?  What do we REALLY do, that deserves any credit?  

Let me ask you this—was the Greatest Generation only great because of the sacrifices of our military?  

No.  They were great because our grandparents did what needed to be done to fight that fight and keep things going on the homefront.  At the time, the entire country rallied around, and anyone who could serve—did so with pride.

That’s not the case now.  But I digress.

Those who keep things running so that these Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines will have something worth coming home to, worth fighting for, well—we wage a battle of our own.

We fight against depression, darkness, and the boredom of those who forget that we are still a nation at war.

We fight against the ignorance of those who say “it’s no big deal”.  I’ve heard that “it’s no big deal” that they’re deployed.  I’ve heard that “it’s no big deal,” that I’m just doing a wife’s “duty”. 

To some extent, I agree that it’s a wife’s duty.  I’m just old-fashioned enough to think that yes, I should do whatever it takes to support my husband and keep the house running.

But, lest the rest of the world might forget, we are the ones who remember.  

These men and women are not doing this just to take care of their families.  

They are not doing this for the paycheck.  

They are not doing this for personal gain.  

They are bearing the burden for the rest of the country—and we are helping to make sure they can do continue to do it.

So, yes.  Thank a vet.  And if you know the spouse, tell them “thank you for sharing your Soldier”.   

Veterans' Day-- What to Say?

So, it's Veterans' Day, and I love all of the "thank you" and "honor a vet" kinds of things I'm seeing on Facebook and elsewhere.  I know there are people who don't think once about a Soldier or a vet until this day rolls around, and I know those whose hearts are touched every moment by the true meaning behind being a veteran or current military member.

It's all good.

The free meals, discounts, and other "we appreciate you" gestures that have popped up from certain businesses are nice.  I try not to be cynical and just try to think the best of the businesses that offer them.  But I digress.

My friend Kat is in the beginning stages of setting up an equine therapy program, and she told me that most of the clients will be wounded warriors-- those vets who didn't come home from combat unscathed.  I don't know the details, exactly.  I have heard great things about equine therapy with lots of different groups, and I think that there is a little bit of magic to be made in the saddle.

Somehow, horses don't have to be told what we need.  They don't need to know what to say, what to do, or how to avoid those awkward conversation topics.  They just are.

However, the therapists and handlers are very human.  And, like many people, Kat said she wasn't sure exactly what to say.  Or, perhaps more importantly, what not to say.

We'll start with a little bit of "what to say" to get the ball rolling.  Easy stuff first.

My own beloved Soldier told me "talk about sports".  No politics, no "are we STILL in name-that-distant-country", no hot topics.  

Ask where a Soldier (or family member) has been.  Ask where they're from originally.  Let them know "hey, I've been there!" or "Gee, I always wanted to go."

Talk about  hobbies, talk about interests...heck, just ask them about themselves.  And if they don't seem like they want to open up, let the silence be an easy one.

Let them know if a loved one is in the military, or is/was a vet.  You don't need to get into details, especially difficult ones (no talk of "Uncle Jeff was never the same after Vietnam" or "Grandma really suffered after Grandpa died in the Battle of the Bulge").  If you're proud of their service, great!  But keep it easy, keep it light.

Build some trust.

Going to be working with the military and you're not sure about acronyms?

Look them up.  :)

Want to learn about bases/posts/installations?  This site isn't official but it is a good general overview.

Now that you have the conversation started, here are some tips about what not to say.  Some of these are my own, many are supplied from other spouses.  I am deeply grateful for the spouse of a wounded warrior who gave me some good advice.

Kat, please don't be insulted.  All of these are things people have said to Soldiers and/or spouses.

First and foremost, you do NOT know how they feel.  (Unless, of course, you are also a wounded warrior or a spouse of one.  Even then it's a pretty bald assumption.)

Frequent travel for work is not the same as a deployment.  Being deployed is not "like any other job" and please don't say it is.

I personally don't really care for "I don't know how you handle him being gone so often/so long".  Heck, most of the time I don't know how I handle it either.  Thanks for pointing that out.

Not all military members like to be thanked "for their service."  My Soldier is always touched when a vet pays for his meal, or shakes his hand with a certain "I understand" expression.

But "hey, thanks for your service!" is sometimes awkward.  There is a fine line between appreciating the sacrifice that these men and women make, and sounding like you're saying "thanks for doing it so I don't have to think about it".

Please, don't ever say "you know what you signed up for".  "You knew what the risks were." We are neither psychic nor omniscient.

ASK before you photograph.  My fellow spouse, whose husband was wounded, has said "no photographs".

She has also said that people should ask her husband what happened to him-- it is his story, after all.  Perhaps ask the family members how they're doing.  How are they holding up, how can you help.  But for details on what happened-- ask the Soldier.

And knowing a wounded warrior (your uncle, your niece, your friend from college) is not the same as being married to one.  Not even if it's your own child.  It's nowhere close.

Don't ask intrusive details beyond that which you must know to help them.  If you can't see the wounds, ask if they will need help in some way that you can't predict.  If you can see the wounds, don't assume they are unable to do things for themselves.

Especially don't ask those intrusive details of the spouse or other family member.  If they need to talk, let them take the lead.

I hope this has been helpful.  Let's recognize and honor our Veterans and Service members today-- and all year long.

Need more?  Check out these links.

What not to say/do to the spouse of a deployed soldier.

What not to say to a Soldier's spouse. (I don't agree with all of these but you'd still be surprised what we get told.  I'm told that the original post was on The War Report, which is another interesting site.)

Funny, though snarky...

A bit of the Soldier's perspective.  Especially the comments after the original short post.

This one is haunting...  In memory of SPC Jason Cooper. 

Five Question Friday-- Semper Gumby

I have been fortunate to meet many amazing and supportive women since My G and I got married.  The first few ladies were both wives of senior NCO's and I remember feeling like they had swooped over to (almost) literally tuck me under their wings and explain Army life to me.  They were singularly dedicated to their Soldiers, yet they could also be pragmatic and very straightforward about Army life.  They gave me some advice, and then they left me alone to find out for myself what I needed to do to succeed as an Army wife.

Stephanie has always reminded me of these women.  I met Stephanie because she does predeployment and reintegration training and preparation for Army Community Service.  Her job is to give young spouses and young Soldiers (and some not-so-young ones too) the tools they need to successfully get through deployments and then to create a new "normal" once they are home.  She is also a Master Trainer, which in layman's terms means that she teaches others, how to teach like she does.  

Did I mention I've learned a lot from her?

Stephanie's predeployment talks were legendary by the time my husband returned home from his second deployment.  She would talk, with frank humor and perfect phrasing, about such things as getting the motor running after a long time in the garage-- sometimes welcoming a Soldier home after a deployment is not the wine-and-candles romance it seems, and she wanted wives to understand that physical and emotional intimacy may take time.  My battle buddies and I were tired from laughing so hard by the time she finished.

I can't talk about Stephanie, though, without talking about her Soldier.  I wish I could have met him.  Her love and respect for him is so obvious, and she is such a strong person, that I can only imagine what an amazing team they made.  It's not my story to tell, about this dedicated retired Soldier, husband, and father and the life that ended too soon.  It's a story you can read in her book, Once in a Wifetime, which I recommend to all spouses.  But I can tell you that his effect lives on in her humor and strength and example for all of us.

Stephanie, I don't know if you read my blog.  I'd love it if you did.  But I wanted to say "thank you" for all the times I've seen you pick yourself up after ridiculously long days.  "Thank you" for the example you've set for all Army spouses, of strength and humor and dedication.  And "thank you," especially, for those times when you were a friendly smile when I needed it most, or when you allowed me to be that smiling presence for you. 

I'm honored that you answered my questions.

1. What are some things you know now about military life that you wish someone had told you? 

I thought being a veteran prepared me for anything - especially being a military wife, but that was so far from the truth! Nothing prepares you for the changes and challenges you face as the wife of a Soldier except being the wife of a Soldier.

2. What is the most important thing you'd like to tell new spouses?

Don't take the hard times personally - they are not meant that way, even if they come across that way. They are the challenges you face while building something truly amazing!

3. What do you love the most?

The thing I love the most is being part of an elite group of strong, resilient and amazing women who face challenges on a daily basis that would make mere mortal women run and hide.

4. What do you find the hardest?

What is the hardest part? Sometimes it's realizing that you are not priority number 1 when you really want to be and knowing that it will be that way ----a lot. The job, the kids, the house, the bills, the dog even, may all come before you because he/she knows that no matter where you come in line, you will always be there and that someday, maybe after retirement, you will be number 1 again.

5. Tell me a story that sums up military life for you.

My favorite story about my Soldier - hard to pick just one - so many - some funny, some sad, some noble, some not so... but I have to say that my favorite is not about his time with me, but his time with our daughter. Watching this hard as nails, tougher than concrete Infantryman, laying on the floor in a tent fortress made of sheets, pillows and couch cushions, watching My Little Pony (or some other children's video) while dining on oreos and milk with his favorite little girl. This was their "COOM" time (camping out with oreos and milk). 

Mom was not invited to attend or spend the night - I was curled up in bed with a book or sat at my computer working on my own book, while two of the most precious people in my life spent a special night together, making one of their very precious memories. In theory it is their memory, but the laughter, the giggles, the smiles on their faces at the special memory shared - that's a memory, a treasure that I will have forever.

Five Question Friday-- Me, Myself, and I

Well, it's Friday, and I always try to have a military spouse/veteran's spouse/retiree's spouse check in.


But I didn't have any new answers for my questions.  I've tried, but I know people are busy and maybe they're tired of this idea.  I don't know.  The Internet goes fast.


But I thought I'd do at LEAST one more-- and answer the questions myself.

1. What are five things you know now about military life that you wish someone had told you?

 Everyone was right about what Army life would be like. 

    Everyone was also wrong.  

    My Army family can sometimes be more important, or at least more understanding of what I’m going through, than my “family”.  

    I never realized how strong I can be.  

    And I wish someone had told me how precious each of these days is.  Even the first little crappy place we lived, in memory, is a mansion because that's where we started out.

  2. What is the most important thing you'd like to tell new  spouses? 

       GET INVOLVED.  Not necessarily on post (although that is good and can be a lifesaver), but getting involved in something outside yourself, outside your Soldier, and outside your little family can be absolutely crucial when he is in the field or training or (especially), deployed.

   3.   What do you love the most?


    I love that I “get it”—I love that the Army terms, routines, rituals, rites, and the whole patriotic mess mean more to me because I understand it and I have been blessed to live it. 

   4. What do you find the hardest?


    The sheer unpredictability of the military makes me absolutely nuts sometimes.  Joy and grief and maybes and probably-won't's and the dreaded "should"...this roller coaster is not for the faint of heart.

   5.   A story:  


    We got married in between my classes ending and finals beginning, during “dead day” at the University of Arizona.  We had two days together as a little honeymoon, and he flew back to Kansas on Mother’s Day.  I began finals the day after.  During the regular semester, I had one name.  For finals, I had another.  It would be nearly two full months before we’d see each other again, after he had finished NTC and found us a home.  I learned to drive, packed up my life, and copied down all of his mother’s recipes.  J  This all seems so old-fashioned to me now, but something tells me spouses still get married like this sometimes and will have their own “on their own” stories to tell.  




   I'd really love to hear from you.  What story do you have to share about just starting military life?  Or life in general?  Leave me a comment.  Or two.  :)

The Five Stages: Denial

This is the second in a series of blogs based on Kubler-Ross’s Five Stages of Grief. These, however, are the Five Stages of a Deployment, or extended TDY, or any time our Soldier is “away”.

The time frame for these may vary depending on the spouse and on the individual couple. For example, when we first got married and I had moved halfway across the country, our first CQ involved all five stages because it happened the first day in our new home. Now, I don’t really do many of these until about the third week, or they pass so quickly it’s a mere bad mood.

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

I am purposefully not doing the stages in the usual order, because even Kubler-Ross says these stages aren’t necessarily complete or chronological. Each person is unique.

DENIAL--


During a deployment or other “away,” denial doesn’t mean that the spouse pretends her Soldier is still home. We might be lonely, but we haven’t quite lost touch with reality. Well, not yet.

When a spouse is in denial, she tells herself that it’s not a big deal that her Soldier is gone. She might go so far as to pretend that it’s easier when he’s away.

This is when she spreads all of her stuff across the bed, across the bathroom counter, and is most likely to make some larger changes in their home, such as redecorating or painting. One of my friends put a humongous hole in one of their walls, she was so determined that she could and would get their house the way they wanted it while she was on her own.

Superwoman, thy name is Military Spouse.

Denial can last the entire “away”, sometimes. The spouse can cook what she likes (or that he hates, such as the dreaded pork chops my own husband despises), she can watch what she likes, and she can set up new rules for the kids. (Bedtime at 7 every night!)

Denial, in this case, can actually be very healthy. It allows the spouse some time to be on her own and to discover her own sense of accomplishment. New skills (such as hole-patching) might be learned. Denial helps push away the darker feelings and stages of any “away”, and keeps the lonelies at bay.

This is when we eat a little too much chocolate or watch a few too many hours of our favorite shows. Denial is when we make plans with friends for movies, or coffees, or makeup parties. We sign up for classes to fill the time.

Denial is most likely to come at the beginning of a long “away”, after the initial shock and despair have passed. Sometimes it comes before the Soldier has even left, when we begin making all those plans to fill up empty hours. Denial can reappear at other times during the “away”, whether it’s a two-week field engagement or a 15-month-long deployment.

Denial should not be confused with acceptance, which comes later and accompanies different feelings and experiences. Denial is when we believe we can do anything and everything. Denial is when we are more inclined to overdo, overextend, and overcompensate for that huge hole in our lives.


So what is your coping strategy?