It Must Be Love...

 **This post has been sitting in my "unfinished queue" for a week now..and I finally got to finishing it. Again, I am still sucking at the whole experimenting with my camera and taking pictures thing, so here are some of our wedding pictures.

One of the most common questions military spouses get, especially while their significant other is deployed, is, “How do you do it?” And I think I can speak for most all military spouses when I say, “We do it because we have to”. There is no other way to explain it. I don’t know how I did it. And to be honest with you, most days it seems like it was all a dream, like I didn’t actually do it at all. When I was going through it, it didn’t feel like my life was any different than anyone else’s. It didn’t seem that hard—most days.

The anticipation of being separated (by deployment) is FAR worse than when it actually happens. The first two weeks are “adjustment weeks” and then after that, you find a new routine, a new kind of normal, and coping mechanisms that make the rest of the time seem not quite so bad.

That being said, I find myself wondering how I ever did it. On Saturday, Steve went to a meeting in the cities for the business. It was only going to be a one day thing. And I knew that. I could have gone with him—I didn’t have anything going on, and families are usually welcome to come to those types of things, and sometimes even encouraged to go to them. But, he was riding with his brother, who was picking up a couple others, and he assured me that it wouldn’t be anything I would find interesting anyway. So, I decided to stay home and try to work on my mountain of things to do.

Friday night, I was absolutely dreading the next day. I hated the thought of being home, by myself, without him. I hated that I had to be away from him. Even if it was only for 12 hours—4 of which I was sleeping. On Saturday, I started missing him—like REALLY missing him, by about noon. And I slept in until like 10. It seems to happen at work every day too. About halfway through the day, I just start missing him like crazy and can’t wait until he comes home so I can see him and be with him.

I am laughing here, even though it kind of looks like I am mid-sneeze

Every weekend seems to fly by so fast, and then we are back to a WHOLE WEEK of going our separate ways, and doing our own things when I wish we could both just stay home all day every day and snuggle up on the couch and watch movies or something.

He keeps me sane and seems to find a way to solve all my problems. Tonight, I completely broke down and started crying over what I THOUGHT was a newly broken Christmas gift that I had been attempting to fix for about 3 hours. Steve saw how frustrated I was, put down what he was doing, and had my problem fixed in about 3 minutes. Apparently, it’s not broken, just ridiculously temperamental.  I’m not entirely sure what I would have done if he weren’t here, or what I did when he wasn’t here. Probably got ridiculously frustrated, cried, and then pretended that whatever problem I was having didn’t exist.

I don’t know how I survived with him gone. There’s no way to explain it, and no way for my brain to comprehend how I was capable of such a feat. Although I’m sure that I could do it again, if I had to, it doesn’t seem like it would be possible for me survive that long without him again. Especially when I feel like I can barely survive one day without him.

As much as being away from each other, and the deployments and the separation, and everything that goes along with the military lifestyle strengthened us, both individually, and as husband and wife, I think that the being able to actually be together has continued to make us stronger. And has succeeded in making me something that I wasn’t able to be for a long time. A spoiled wife who gets to be with her husband almost every day for at least a little while, and a wife who gets to snuggle up to her husband pretty much every night.

The only way I can explain all of it, this whole post. Everything that I’ve experienced in the last 5 years, everything I’m feeling right now, everything I hope to continue, is that it must be love. We must really have something special. I didn’t ever really doubt this. I mean, I did put up with 4 years of military, 2 deployments for the man. And married him—twice. But sometimes it’s kind of refreshing to take a look at the bond that you have, the feelings that you share, and be reminded how important people are to you.

On a (somewhat) side note, I’m not generally all that concerned about what other people think of me, but I do occasionally wonder, if certain things I do, or don’t do, are perceived by others to be something that they’re not. (How’s that for a confusing statement). One of those things that I sometimes wonder, is if the way my husband and I act around each other is appropriate for a couple who is fairly newly married, and fairly newly reunited after a deployment. (Leaning along the lines of, “Are we being lovey-dovey enough?”—I’m not a big fan of PDA).

Today I got a nice reassurance. I was sitting in church, before church actually started. And I had gone early since I volunteered to help with a Sunday School class. After Sunday School, I went into the sanctuary to find a spot and I sat there and waited for Steve to arrive. I talked a few people and Steve finally came and sat next to me. Shortly after, the church service started, starting with the standard “Stand up and greet your neighbors”. I turned around and shook the hand of the middle-aged man sitting behind me. I’m not going to say he was a complete stranger. He wasn’t. I had talked to him a couple times before. But it’s not like I have spent a lot of time conversing with him either. Generally we say “Hi” to each other and that would be it. You know, one of those deals where you know each other, but you don’t usually talk about anything of any real value. Anyway, upon saying the “Good mornings”, and the handshakes, (I wish I could remember his exact words) but he said something along the lines of, “I think it’s really good that you still get that twinkle in your eye when you look at him”. I was a little dumbfounded that someone I barely knew would notice something like that, but at the same time, encouraged that my love for Steve shows to other people.

 

I guess the only way to explain it is, it must be love…

Life

Following a series of unfortunate events and a slow, long ride home, I was given a chance to think about the past year and where it has brought us. We are in a COMPLETELY different spot—physically, mentally, and emotionally—than last year at this time. We were still in North Carolina, staring down the end of 4 years of active duty, and trying to figure out, “where do we go from here”. It’s a rather difficult decision. After 4 full years of the military more or less dictating every move of your life, when you finally gain your freedom back, it’s a little intimidating to try to figure out what to do with it. It takes a lot of adjusting. I found that out rather quickly.

Before the Marine Corps, I was all about schedules, and lists, and planning, and knowing where I was going to be, when. The Marine Corps takes your schedules, your lists, and your planning, rips them out of your hands, and throws them out the window. And every time you try to regain a shred of that plan they threw out the window, they grab it out of your hands even more quickly than the last time and throw it out the window again. Until, eventually, you just accept the fact that it will never change and you might as well quit trying. Which is exactly what I did. Oddly enough, now that we are done with the Marine Corps, I still don’t really make schedules, or lists, or plans. I just do what I feel like doing when I feel like doing it. In some ways, it’s not exactly the most ideal way to live—I would love to have my “structure” back. But, at the same time, it’s kind of liberating to not be bound by schedules and lists and planning. I’m thinking that’s what keeps me from going back to it.

Either way, my husband, I think, is the same boat as I am—a once very structured individual, stripped of all his own personal structure to fit into the structure of the military, and now not always sure of what he is going to do until he does it.

In many ways, this flaw character trait that we both now seem to possess has gotten us to where we are today. Originally, Steve had planned on going to school, but at the last minute he changed his mind, and decided to take up a business venture instead. Now, even though I am now a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl, this business venture was a little unnerving for me. I wasn’t convinced that it was the best move for us. Especially at this point in our lives. But, my husband cannot be talked out of something that he really wants to do, unless it’s himself trying to do the talking-out-of. So, I knew that we were going to be doing it regardless of what I thought of it.

Despite my reluctance, I have been trying to contribute in any way possible and be supportive. I have since changed my mind about this ordeal. Of course I still wonder, “where would we be if…”, but who doesn’t wonder that sometimes? Here we are, 5 months into our business venture, and I am beginning to be more and more okay with it, even excited about it. Do I think it was the best path for us? I don’t know. I will never know, since I didn’t get to experience the other paths. Is it better than I thought it was going to be? Yeah, I can honestly say that it is. Steve works hard every day, with the hope that his business will turn out to be able to provide for us, so that I won’t HAVE to work when we start thinking about having kids. Whether or not I would want to give up my job, I have no idea—I think I might want to continue at my job! Either way, I know what he was thinking when he started this business venture, and what he wants to come out of it, and that makes me even more supportive of him than I initially thought I would be.

The best parts about this whole thing? He LOVES his job. It’s something that he enjoys doing every day. Which is more than he can say about certain other jobs he has had. It doesn’t get much better than working at a job that you like. I love my jobs—both of them. I work a “normal” job at a bank during the day, and I come home and get to utilize my college education, as well as fulfill my desire to continue learning new things, by doing the bookkeeping for the business. We are both happy where we are working—what can be better than that!?

No matter how structured your life is, how many plans you make, or how many schedules you follow, sometimes a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants moment can bring lots of good things to set your life into a comfortable place.

And, because I STILL don’t have a new picture to go along with this blog, and because it was so cold and crummy today, here is one of my favorite pictures from last year at this time:

BTW, for those of you who haven’t figured this out yet, I have decided that my New Years Resolution needs to be modified (I know, I know, it’s like the 2^nd week of the year). My goal, now, will be at least 1 new blog post/life lesson/picture PER WEEK, instead of PER DAY. At least until after tax season is over…

The Dreaded Phone Call

When I was younger, my parents always had me study for my spelling tests right before I would go to sleep, with the belief that studying right before you went to sleep helped your brain to retain the information. I’m sure we’ve all heard that before though, so it’s not really “new” news. While I always did really well on my spelling tests, I’m not entirely convinced that it was because I studied before I went to sleep. I think it is just because I have always found spelling to be rather easy. (Please note that any spelling errors in this blog is most likely a “typo” and not an actual spelling error—I dislike proofreading, so I only do it when I have to). And, to be completely honest, I spent many a night studying late at night, even falling asleep while studying for some of my college courses, and I don’t think it helped any.

Either way, I never had dreams about spelling, or accounting, or anything else that I studied before I went to bed at night. At least not that I remember.

Which bring me to my next observation—I remember a LOT of my dreams. According to my 10^th grade Psychology class, that is BAD. That means that I am frequently woken up while during my REM sleep cycle which means I actually end up being more tired than I would, had I woken up and not remembered my dreams. Either way, my dreams are usually pretty crazy. If I actually believed that what you dreamt about had some hidden meaning, I would probably check myself into some dream analysis hospital, which would very quickly land me in a mental institution.

Occasionally I have fairly normal, realistic dreams though, and lately those dreams have been so vivid that I wake up wondering if I was dreaming, or if at least part of that dream really happened. As much as I would like to say that this blog post is about one of those crazy, screwed up, “how on Earth did I come up with THAT?” dreams, it’s not. It’s about one of the normal, realistic ones.

A few days ago, early in the morning, my husband and I were still sleeping. I have no idea what time it ACTUALLY was, but in my mind, I was thinking it was like 5am. I realize now that it was probably more like 8am, but whatever. We were still sleeping, and Steve’s phone rang. He looked at the number, and chose to ignore it. But, since he knew that it (barely) woke me up, he asked, “Who would be calling with a number that is all 1s?” Which spiraled me straight into a sleep induced panic, and VERY vivid dream. I heard the little “beep” informing him that the caller had left a voicemail for him. I told him (in my sleep) that he needed to listen to it RIGHT NOW to find out what they wanted. He didn’t, he just rolled over and went back to sleep.

It was very stressful to me that I didn’t know what the caller wanted (although, apparently not stressful enough to keep me awake because I fell asleep almost immediately after I told him he needed to listen to the voicemail RIGHT NOW. This whole thing probably requires a little further explanation—like why I was so adamant about knowing RIGHT NOW, and why it stressed me out so much to not know, and left me in a panic in my sleep. There actually is a very legitimate reason for feeling all of this, and here it is:

In the Marine Corps, they have what are called a “Family Readiness Officers”, or as Milspouses call them, “FROs”. While these people are available to help military families with anything, deployed or not, one of their more well-known duties, is to relay information to the families of deployed Marines, and to help those families cope with their Marine being gone. While Marines are deployed, they will send out (automated) phone calls to the families with any updates they receive. I was on the “calling list” while Steve was in Afghanistan. Whenever they would call, the number would show up on my phone as all 1s.

In my pretty much completely sleeping stupor, for some reason, I was certain that it was the FRO calling us to inform us that Steve was being called back into active duty. Now this isn’t a COMPLETELY nutso thought. It really could happen. Steve technically still has 2+ years of inactive duty left, meaning that if the need arises, they can call him back to go to war. Generally this would mean a deployment of mass proportions—as in every military man in the country who was “active duty” would have to be deployed before Steve would have to go again, and with all branches of the military currently OVER staffed, it is unlikely that will happen. But not impossible. The one slightly “nutso” aspect of that, is why I thought it would be the automated FRO phone call that would be informing us that he was being called back.

I was so confused about why we would be getting a phone call from them at all, that was the only conclusion that I could come to. It never even occurred to me that some one else’s number might show up like that. I think that’s why I wanted him to listen to the voicemail RIGHT NOW. I wanted to know why they were calling us.

I fell asleep thinking about this, and for once in my life, what I fell asleep thinking about actually reflected in my dreams. I dreamt that it was, in fact, the FRO. Luckily, he wasn’t calling to inform us that Steve had been reactivated, he was calling us to inform us of some heart condition that many of the Marines that were in Steve’s unit were experiencing, due to some kind of chemical or gas that they had been exposed to where they went. And that he should go to the VA and get checked out immediately.

Now, this isn’t entirely crazy either, although I am a little curious how it came into play. Steve was exposed to plenty of gases that were deemed “cancerous”, during his active duty. Not to mention the fact that they (meaning the Marines in the occupation) have come to the conclusion that “Trackers” are not able to have sons. And so far it has proven true to all but 1 person that I know—and that one’s son was born before he was in the Marine Corps, so that hardly counts. Again, that part that I don’t really understand is why I thought the FRO would be calling to inform us. When actually (since Steve is already dealing with the VA) it would probably be his doctor at the VA that would inform him of this.

Anyway, I woke up not too long after that, and was completely confused. I had no idea why I was dreaming about that, or how much of it was true. I didn’t know if the phone call had really been from the FRO, or if there even was a phone call, or if it was all a dream. I was going to ask Steve (who had also just woken up), if someone had called that had a number with all 1s, risking feeling like a complete moron, but I didn’t have to. Just as I was thinking about asking, he picked up his phone and called his voicemail. I listened, heart racing, as he keyed in his password and waited for the very kind-sounding, yet annoying “voicemail lady” to inform him that he had a new message.

I was relieved to hear that it was some lady asking about a tool repair.

I have heard about military men coming back from war and having flashbacks through dreams of their time in the warzone. And all the post-traumatic stress symptoms. I have even heard of milspouses with injured or KIA soldiers experiencing the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder symptoms through the recollections of their husbands. I’m not implying that I have anything remotely close to post-traumatic stress, but I did find it very odd, how worked up I got about a phone number. How panicked I got wondering why the military was calling us, and the sense of urgency of needing to know RIGHT NOW.

Although this “lesson” is something that I already knew, it was a good reminder that war affects everyone. It doesn’t just stop at the soldiers, or even their families. It goes beyond that a plays a role in everyone’s lives—whether they like it or not. And it doesn’t just go away—even the smallest triggers can send feeling flooding back.

So, no picture for this one either—I’m not doing so hot on the “picture” aspect of my New Years’ Resolution, but honestly, I’m not sure what I would take a picture of to go with this story, so I will save the picture for another blog post.