Military needs

Earlier this week, the husband had to go to Walter Reed for a medical appointment and I decided to ride along.  This isn't the first time we've had to go there, but this time was a bit more bittersweet than the last.  As we were winding our way through the crazy corridors trying to locate the correct office, all around were people packing up offices, searching for boxes, talking about moving schedules.  The next time we have to go for a special medical appointment, we'll be heading to Bethesda instead.  It's amazing to think about the legacy of that building, and of the history that has been contained within it's walls.

The military medical system is a difficult system to use.  The logistics of doctors, nurses, and technicians relocating every few years guarantees that your care will be routinely handled by a different person, and sometimes it affects the consistency of care you receive.  In recent years, the military health system has come under greater scrutiny, and Walter Reed was at the center of that scrutiny. Changes were made, and are still being made.  I'm hopeful that these changes bring about a greater level of care for our wounded soldiers. I appreciate the many people who work within this system daily, trying to provide the needed services for those who have sacrificed for their fellow man.

Sometimes it's hard to see what the members of America's military do to protect us here at home.  We hear about them fighting the war overseas and we hear people's opinion on those wars. We hear about the casualties and the bad things that happen.  And occasionally we hear about the good things they are doing over there. And then those men and women come home, hopefully safely, and try to live their everyday lives.  Many of those serving overseas are members of the Guard or Reserves.  The military is not their normal life, and no matter how they serve, normal life has continued while they were away.  They have to learn to live a life that has changed.  They may not bear physical wounds, but anyone that has deployed to a war zone will tell you that they have a new reality when they return home.  Some of them bear scars that no one will ever see.

Our country struggles to handle these wounded veterans.  The system wants to point fingers and cover up blame.  Our elected officials worry more about the next election than the do the quality of life for our military members and their families.  Sure, it's nice to attend Easter egg hunts and ballgames and concerts.  And those events make great photo ops.  But what our service members need is care.  They need to know that they will receive their pay on time.  They need to know that they will receive the best medical treatments available, both for them and their families.  They need to know that the equipment and buildings they use are built to the highest standard, not the lowest.  They need to know that the retirement benefits they've been counting on will be there when they retire.

Too much...

I am on complete overload.  Our friend was buried today, and Thursday another member of our guard family will be laid to rest.  She had not been deployed with my husband, but was still a part of the Signal Corp and worked with many of these soldiers.  These people are way to young to leave us, and the shockwaves are buffeting us all.  To go to a war zone for a year and have no major injuries or loss of life, and to come home and experience two in a month is insane.  I dread opening my military email, or hearing my husband answer the phone to a co-worker, worried that it's another call.  And I'm trying to comfort him when I don't have the words to say.  I know that time will begin to heal, but I see it taking some time. 

In the meantime, we have taken on a huge endeavor to update our basement family/craft room.  Paint and moving furniture has been therapeutic, and I'm trying to ignore the complete disaster my house is at this time.  I guess I should try to finish putting clothes away tonight, seeing as how I still have my suitcase from Disney lying on my floor with clothing still in it.

Good night all. 

Remembering September 11th, 2001

I very rarely really try to think about that day.  I try to avoid the articles and such.  But this year, something was different. I don't know if it's because my husbands been overseas serving in the war that began in some way after that day, or if it's just been long enough.  After reading a few of those articles, I felt compelled to remember, and record my thoughts and memories of that day.

My husband had an appt in another town that morning.  We were living with my MIL and I was driving Bug to school in our old town 20 minutes way every day.  PB was in home daycare and Monster wasn't even thought of existing at that time.  That's hard for me to grasp when I think about that day...we didn't even know he would exist.  He's never lived in the world the way it was before 9/11/2001.  That makes me pause, and really think.

I was at work.  We didn't have television access, and our internet access was extremely limited.  I worked in a call center as a telephone rep.  Someone's spouse called, and we all began to hear.  The conversations on the calls we were taking were surreal.  DDS called me to tell me he was on his way back and he was watching planes leave the Air Force Base one right after the other...we have large cargo planes, they don't do that.  He knew then something was very wrong.  We agreed he would stop and get Bug and PB and take them home, and stay in contact with me.  All the information w received that day was second hand.  They finally closed the office around lunch time and sent us all home.

I was terrified that our Air Force Base would be a target.  I was terrified that my husband would be asked to leave home and fight.  I worried about what sort of world we were all going to be living in for the rest of our lives. 

I didn't watch the planes hit, the towers burn or their collapse while it was happening, since I was at work.  And I'm thankful for that fact.  By the time I was able to see the footage, I had already heard and digested what happened.  While the images were still shocking, I knew what was going to happen.  And after seeing it once, I didn't need to witness it again.  We tried to keep the girls away from the news, letting them watch cartoons and videos all afternoon and evening. 

I remember walking around the neighborhood that afternoon with the girls.  It was so peaceful.  The sky was blue and cloudy, and it was eerie to look up and not see a plane flying overhead.  We see so many planes here that you stop noticing them after a while...but that day you noticed their absence.  It seemed as if even the birds had been grounded.  The traffic was so light, it was almost as if we were truly some of the only people left. 

I remember the patriotism of the next few weeks.  I remember the feeling of pride.  But mostly, I remember the fear.  My husband had been put on alert, preparing him to go to war.  But I wasn't allowed to tell anyone, or say anything.  Every time my phone rang, I jumped.  I had long conversations with myself, trying to prepare for that call.  When people asked if he was getting called up, I had to lie and say we hadn't heard anything.  This went on for months...even after we did start the attack.  We were on call. 

But eventually, I realized that I had to stop thinking about it constantly.  I had to live life in my new normal.

Several months later we moved onto that Air Force Base.  My children began going to school and daycare on that base.  And every night I prayed.  We moved off that base, but my children still go to school there.  I still pray. 

Day one, then two, then three...

Bethany Actually wrote this post a while ago about the first day of her husbands trip (which he's returned from. YAY Troy!) It really resonated with me. That first day is usually one of the worst. Things start breaking, ants try to take over your house, children act out, it becomes 100 degrees out of the blue. And you are frustrated, but you laugh, cause you knew this would happen.

Yesterday wasn't day one. Friday/Saturday was day one (he went to work Friday, and left from there, which makes the whole thing a little anti climatic, if you know what I mean.) But Friday night, a light wouldn't work, and my sewing machine was slow, and my kids had dinner a my moms, so I couldn't decide what to eat. Saturday was hot, and another light quit working. Sunday was the great ant invasion (a story for another day) and the stress of knowing I really needed to get some work done. Monday was the continuation of the ant invasion, cell phone towers going out, cable going down, and my office being a sauna. None of these things could have been prevented or predicted (well, except the sauna...it's early summer, so my office will be a sauna. In two weeks I'll probably be freezing...lol). And over the course of the last 11 years with my husband, I've learned to let go and have faith.

After we had been married for several years, we fell into a very difficult financial situation (again, another story for another time). DDS left to go to Germany for a short TDY...he wasn't active duty at this time, and was actually unemployed. The day after he left, my car started to die and or septic alarm went off. I had $125 in my checking account to last me for a week, no credit cards, and no savings account. I knew that the alternator in my car needed to be changed...but I wasn't able to handle it. I said a prayer as I traveled into work that day. I asked among my co-workers for suggestions for a cheap on the side mechanic that would be willing to work with me on payment, and found a person willing to do it for a case of beer. I called the septic people and agreed to meet them that afternoon (requiring me to take off work and travel the 45 minutes round trip home and back) and as I walked out the door, I said to my boss "hopefully it will be something simple they can fix for $50 or less." And after watching the man stick a long metal rod into the wet septic opening to catch the wire that had a short (nope, no scary moments there) I happily wrote him the $50 check and said a prayer of thanks.

I've had many more situations since those days. I've always taken care of myself, been one of those people that just sort of plowed through and moved on. I think this is an important trait for a military wife. You have to have a strong sense of self-worth. You have to know that you can handle anything that life throws at you. That doesn't mean that I don't stomp my feet and cry and scream at times. But, once my temper tantrum or moping fit is done, I pull myself up and start solving the problem. It is harder when he isn't here. He is my rock, my shelter, and my support.

The last paragraph in Bethany's post really hit home for me.

"I’ve spent over a thousand nights apart from my husband, thanks to the Navy

and to my own travels, and I know I will be fine. I think Annalie will be

fine too, because of who she is and because I am who I am.
It’s just the first day."

And then it's the second, and then the third, and before we know it, it's over, and he's home.

Time will tell

Tonight was my first Executive meeting as FRG (Family Readiness Group) Leader for my husbands unit. His unit is being deployed this fall, and the military is trying a new system of deployment and family readiness. So we are apparently the test unit. I'm actually excited about the things we are looking to do, but trying to remain realistic about who will participate. I'm hoping that I'll be pleasantly surprised as time goes on.

It is actually a little hard to decide what topics to cover. Not because of the lack of choices, but the feeling that you have so many and such a short time to get them in. But I think we have some good things planned for the future.