There's not too many constant things in your life when you are a military wife. The locations change, friends change, houses and schools change. You find yourself somehow evolving whether you wish to or not.
One of my constants for the last five years, shallow as it sounds, is the television show Lost. I'm a die-hard Lost fan, something I am still surprised to hear myself admit even after having seen every episode. I'm not your typical sci-fi or mythological junkie. Never could get into C.S. Lewis' "The Chronicles of Narnia," among other things (LOTR, The X-Files).
Instead, I connected to each other characters and their back stories and/ or desire to find redemption on that mysterious island. I buckled up for the second season and enjoyed the thrill of the ride through the revelation of the DHARMA initiative, the Others, and ultimately the reveal in Season 6 that the island held the light that symbolized life, death and rebirth.
I can honestly say after watching the series finale yesterday I feel a satisfied sense of closure. As one reviewer put it so simply,"I would rather have closure then answers." I believe that's what the writers set out to accomplish.
My thoughts on the heart of the island: Life, Death and Rebirth
In the second to last episode titled "Across the Sea" Mother describes the light coming from the heart of island as life, death and rebirth. I found this to be very accurate to what each Lostie found on the island. Some, like, Shannon, Boone, Eko and Ana Lucia found death.
Few witnessed new life, Claudia, Danielle and Claire among the very few. I believe that is because the island wasn't primarily meant to be a place where new life could be given, and that is why so many pregnant women were unable to carry to full term on the island. For the few that did give life on the island, it was part of their own personal redemption.
If you think about it, redemption brings upon a kind of rebirth. This is what the majority of our beloved Oceanic 815 survivors found. Redemption before they faced their death. It was the final plot line for our leader Jack. He found redemption through his sacrifice to the island, by letting go and clinging to his new found faith.
For this reason, I felt satisfied with the ending where Jack finally reconnected to his fellow friends at the end of his life. All that being said, I admit I was a tad bit disappointed when I found out the alternate timeline was merely a creation of their imagination. Because there was a lot of redemption and joy there too. Although I knew there would be even greater things to follow in the light. I like to imagine they have all gone back to the island. The island is now free of malevolence and corruption. Now it is a place where they can truly be who they were meant to be.
That's where I am less then 24 hours after the finale. I plan on watching it many more times, because I'm sure there is more to process and to learn from this great television show. I will miss it.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
The Beginning of the End
In a couple of days, we begin the end of our pre-deployment period.
I'm happy and sad. Scared and not scared. There's so much to process. I'm worried about my children. The advice I was given was powerful, yet simple: If you are fine, they will be fine. But I sometimes think that well-meaning woman underestimated the awareness of my very precocious 5-year old. My 3-year old acts out in different ways. From throwing fits to ignoring me.
Though she understands Daddy is gone, she doesn't quite understand why he has to leave our family. She's not sold on the cause yet.
Through it all, I'm happy to have this training period come to an end. It wasn't just training for my husband and his crew. It was training for our family too. Towards the end of this thing, we've started to get into a routine. The children have begun to listen and obey me better. I'm finding it difficult searching for a balance between being loving, fun and the disciplinarian. Getting by is just not going to be enough for me as a parent over the next deployment. It needs to be more then that. There's more to it.
Right now the next few months will be quiet, heavenly. I'm wanting to make every day count.
I'm happy and sad. Scared and not scared. There's so much to process. I'm worried about my children. The advice I was given was powerful, yet simple: If you are fine, they will be fine. But I sometimes think that well-meaning woman underestimated the awareness of my very precocious 5-year old. My 3-year old acts out in different ways. From throwing fits to ignoring me.
Though she understands Daddy is gone, she doesn't quite understand why he has to leave our family. She's not sold on the cause yet.
Through it all, I'm happy to have this training period come to an end. It wasn't just training for my husband and his crew. It was training for our family too. Towards the end of this thing, we've started to get into a routine. The children have begun to listen and obey me better. I'm finding it difficult searching for a balance between being loving, fun and the disciplinarian. Getting by is just not going to be enough for me as a parent over the next deployment. It needs to be more then that. There's more to it.
Right now the next few months will be quiet, heavenly. I'm wanting to make every day count.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Re-inventing Mother's Day
I had a great day yesterday. What made it great? Spending the day with the most important two little ones in my life.
In our present day and age, Mother's Day has been made into a day to have a break. To get away from the significantly overwhelming task of being a mediator; a chauffeur, a cook, housekeeper, a financial planner; everything that's rolled into the mom title. And that's okay. Nothing wrong with that. I love getting away as much as the next person.
But yesterday as I poured the strawberry waffle batter into the waffle maker, I had the chance to reflect on what is most important this year, about Mother's Day. That is to spend time being thankful for the purpose that God gave me. Right now, in this moment, that purpose is to be a leader for my family, and to hold it together until we are one whole again. The best gift I received yesterday was hugs and kisses from my children. They are the ones every day who give me purpose, and who love me as I am. For better or for worse, I am their mom and I will summon every bit of energy I have in me to show them that I can carry us through these lonely times.
In our present day and age, Mother's Day has been made into a day to have a break. To get away from the significantly overwhelming task of being a mediator; a chauffeur, a cook, housekeeper, a financial planner; everything that's rolled into the mom title. And that's okay. Nothing wrong with that. I love getting away as much as the next person.
But yesterday as I poured the strawberry waffle batter into the waffle maker, I had the chance to reflect on what is most important this year, about Mother's Day. That is to spend time being thankful for the purpose that God gave me. Right now, in this moment, that purpose is to be a leader for my family, and to hold it together until we are one whole again. The best gift I received yesterday was hugs and kisses from my children. They are the ones every day who give me purpose, and who love me as I am. For better or for worse, I am their mom and I will summon every bit of energy I have in me to show them that I can carry us through these lonely times.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Support
Reflect upon your present blessings of which every man has many, not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some. -Charles Dickens
You can find support in funny places when you're minus your other half.
Yesterday I picked up my children from the play land at the grocery store. By the way, the only reason I shop here is because they have free child care while you shop.
I talked to the nice old lady who works there. She takes care of the kids every so often and she mentioned that her husband was in the navy but that he had passed away years ago.
Recently she was in the hospital for a bout of pneumonia and was taken care of at the local naval hospital. "What a blessing," I found myself saying to her, that she still has quality, free medical care even years after her husband has gone. I wasn't quite sure I believed what I was saying. In that moment, I felt like I gave my robotic answer for something I take for granted.
I was so lost in my own sorrow for my crappy week, I couldn't even be thankful for the blessing right in front of my face. After spending a bit of time at home playing with my kids yesterday, I realized how truly lucky I am. Two beautiful children. A husband that loves me. A secure, stable job. Family and friends nearby. Sunshine (finally!) and a beautiful home. And then, the act of kindness that tipped the scales. My neighbor came over and mowed and trimmed my front yard for me.
You can find support in funny places, when you're minus your other half. Today, I found plenty. From that sweet lady who helped me reflect. From my friend who offered to watch my children when I need a break. From my neighbors, who care enough to help take care of me. And from deep inside me. I know that it's going to be okay, and that we're going to make it through this.
You can find support in funny places when you're minus your other half.
Yesterday I picked up my children from the play land at the grocery store. By the way, the only reason I shop here is because they have free child care while you shop.
I talked to the nice old lady who works there. She takes care of the kids every so often and she mentioned that her husband was in the navy but that he had passed away years ago.
Recently she was in the hospital for a bout of pneumonia and was taken care of at the local naval hospital. "What a blessing," I found myself saying to her, that she still has quality, free medical care even years after her husband has gone. I wasn't quite sure I believed what I was saying. In that moment, I felt like I gave my robotic answer for something I take for granted.
I was so lost in my own sorrow for my crappy week, I couldn't even be thankful for the blessing right in front of my face. After spending a bit of time at home playing with my kids yesterday, I realized how truly lucky I am. Two beautiful children. A husband that loves me. A secure, stable job. Family and friends nearby. Sunshine (finally!) and a beautiful home. And then, the act of kindness that tipped the scales. My neighbor came over and mowed and trimmed my front yard for me.
You can find support in funny places, when you're minus your other half. Today, I found plenty. From that sweet lady who helped me reflect. From my friend who offered to watch my children when I need a break. From my neighbors, who care enough to help take care of me. And from deep inside me. I know that it's going to be okay, and that we're going to make it through this.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
It's a Given
I had the privilege of getting acquainted with my Shop Vac today. It's a small one and it only holds two gallons. So I got to empty it about 10 times.
There is some kind of law that says things must go wrong while your husband is on deployment. Injuries and catastrophes abound. It just so happened the only day I actually had errands to run after I picked up my daughter from pre-school the bathroom flooded.
"Mom, where did those footsteps come from?" My five-year-old asked me when we arrived home today. I was setting the groceries down in the kitchen when she motioned to the hallway where footsteps from her and her brother saturated the carpet. My first thought was to check the laundry room, since that's where we had a problem just a couple of months ago but after a quick check, it was dry. I opened up the bathroom to the main door and stepped into water everywhere. Only about 1/4 of an inch but it had run down the hallway and into my bedroom.
It's funny how instinct takes over even when you don't know what the hell you're doing. I shut off the water behind the toilet and lifted the lid and looked into the bowl. It wasn't overflowing but I started throwing towels down to soak up the water on the floor. I called my Dad. He's the only one I can depend on for things like this. I'm considering making friends with my neighbor who seems quite handy. As I spoke with my Dad I noticed that the fill flush valve thingy he replaced last month when he was here had come loose from its position in the tank. Not sure how that happened.
After a big sigh (and okay, I scarfed three Ferrero Rocher in a moment of insane stress) I got out the Shop Vac we recently purchased and began to suck the water out of the completely soaked carpet. A musty, moldy smell filled the hallway almost immediately. Not sure if we are going to have to replace the carpet yet.
Unfortunately Ahron wasn't able to respond to my emails until later this evening. I felt myself wishing he had a different career this afternoon. I knew it wasn't the right thing to wish for, but I couldn't help myself. But my mom made a good point when I talked to her on the phone earlier. She said,"Even if Aaron had been here, he still would have been at work so you would have had to handle it yourself anyway." She had a point. Still it was a moment that made me feel alone, and I felt resentment toward him. But when he called me on the phone this evening and told me he really loved me, I nearly lost it. Because I know in a heartbeat he would have been here to help me if he could have.
There is some kind of law that says things must go wrong while your husband is on deployment. Injuries and catastrophes abound. It just so happened the only day I actually had errands to run after I picked up my daughter from pre-school the bathroom flooded.
"Mom, where did those footsteps come from?" My five-year-old asked me when we arrived home today. I was setting the groceries down in the kitchen when she motioned to the hallway where footsteps from her and her brother saturated the carpet. My first thought was to check the laundry room, since that's where we had a problem just a couple of months ago but after a quick check, it was dry. I opened up the bathroom to the main door and stepped into water everywhere. Only about 1/4 of an inch but it had run down the hallway and into my bedroom.
It's funny how instinct takes over even when you don't know what the hell you're doing. I shut off the water behind the toilet and lifted the lid and looked into the bowl. It wasn't overflowing but I started throwing towels down to soak up the water on the floor. I called my Dad. He's the only one I can depend on for things like this. I'm considering making friends with my neighbor who seems quite handy. As I spoke with my Dad I noticed that the fill flush valve thingy he replaced last month when he was here had come loose from its position in the tank. Not sure how that happened.
After a big sigh (and okay, I scarfed three Ferrero Rocher in a moment of insane stress) I got out the Shop Vac we recently purchased and began to suck the water out of the completely soaked carpet. A musty, moldy smell filled the hallway almost immediately. Not sure if we are going to have to replace the carpet yet.
Unfortunately Ahron wasn't able to respond to my emails until later this evening. I felt myself wishing he had a different career this afternoon. I knew it wasn't the right thing to wish for, but I couldn't help myself. But my mom made a good point when I talked to her on the phone earlier. She said,"Even if Aaron had been here, he still would have been at work so you would have had to handle it yourself anyway." She had a point. Still it was a moment that made me feel alone, and I felt resentment toward him. But when he called me on the phone this evening and told me he really loved me, I nearly lost it. Because I know in a heartbeat he would have been here to help me if he could have.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Keep Moving Forward
It's funny, as you get older, how fast time goes. I remember when I went to basic training; watching a video on the bus of how it was going to be. I remember a female recruit saying "the days move slowly but the weeks go by fast." There was never a truer statement. The weeks, the months, the years, they fly by.
I'm working on appreciating the here and the now. It can be a challenge. Especially when there always seems to be something better around the bend. In our case, it's "oh let's just get through this year and in the spring he'll be off the ship." Sometimes even, "just 10 more years until retirement, yay, halfway there!"
But when that spring, or the next five or ten years comes, are we going to be any happier then what we are now and what we have now?
It can be hard to find things to appreciate now but I will look to the little things. Less laundry, and larger paychecks. My son asking so sweetly for bubbles in his bath. My daughter bonding with our new dog. Trips to Yakima to celebrate birthdays. And phone calls. These are the things I'm cleaving to.
I'm working on appreciating the here and the now. It can be a challenge. Especially when there always seems to be something better around the bend. In our case, it's "oh let's just get through this year and in the spring he'll be off the ship." Sometimes even, "just 10 more years until retirement, yay, halfway there!"
But when that spring, or the next five or ten years comes, are we going to be any happier then what we are now and what we have now?
It can be hard to find things to appreciate now but I will look to the little things. Less laundry, and larger paychecks. My son asking so sweetly for bubbles in his bath. My daughter bonding with our new dog. Trips to Yakima to celebrate birthdays. And phone calls. These are the things I'm cleaving to.
Monday, April 26, 2010
I just called to say...
I love you. That old Stevie Wonder song is my ring tone for my husband. Getting a phone call or email from him is exciting. When I see an unread message from him on my email my heart jumps a little bit. Our phone calls are usually planned due to the limited phone connection he has out to sea, but I still look forward to those phone calls.
As difficult as it is now, can you imagine what life must have been like for military spouses before email came along, and before phones were common place? I have said it before and I'll say it again. I could never be a spouse of a service member back then. Call me a wimp if you will, but communication is a huge part of my needs as a woman. Fortunately, my husband feels the same way (although, man!) and he is lucky to be in a position where he has access to a computer on a regular basis.
In "These Boots: A spouse's guide to stepping up and standing tall during deployment," military life consultant Jacey Eckhart talks about the importance of setting up expectations for communication while your spouse is deployed. I couldn't agree with her more. This is one of the ways Aaron and I keep the peace while he is gone.
Now, on a more personal level, something that's been on my mind today. Our son will be turning the big 3 later this week. Even though we knew this was coming, unavoidable, to say the least, and even though we celebrated earlier in the month all together, I am still a little sad. This will be the first of many things he will be missing over the next year, but I am dealing. My son is too young to understand, or at least not think about it to much. But he knows his Daddy loves him more then words can say. And that has to be enough.
As difficult as it is now, can you imagine what life must have been like for military spouses before email came along, and before phones were common place? I have said it before and I'll say it again. I could never be a spouse of a service member back then. Call me a wimp if you will, but communication is a huge part of my needs as a woman. Fortunately, my husband feels the same way (although, man!) and he is lucky to be in a position where he has access to a computer on a regular basis.
In "These Boots: A spouse's guide to stepping up and standing tall during deployment," military life consultant Jacey Eckhart talks about the importance of setting up expectations for communication while your spouse is deployed. I couldn't agree with her more. This is one of the ways Aaron and I keep the peace while he is gone.
Now, on a more personal level, something that's been on my mind today. Our son will be turning the big 3 later this week. Even though we knew this was coming, unavoidable, to say the least, and even though we celebrated earlier in the month all together, I am still a little sad. This will be the first of many things he will be missing over the next year, but I am dealing. My son is too young to understand, or at least not think about it to much. But he knows his Daddy loves him more then words can say. And that has to be enough.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
And then there's this
We've had some bumps this last week.
It's setting in for all three of us that Aaron is going to be gone for a while.
Don't be confused. He is not gone yet. He is currently in training away from home. Every military wife knows that at some point before a deployment her love will undergo some kind of training. So, in addition to the "however many months they are gone for deployment," the solider/sailor/airman/marine undergoes training which also is done away from the family.
My daughter has been throwing massive fits this week. I ask her to do one thing and she explodes, screaming, yelling, crying, angry. I always joke that she's five going on sixteen. It makes me sad. Wednesday night she just cried in her room, "I want Daddy back! I want Daddy back!" It stings a little bit, but I try very hard not to take it personally. I really wanted to lie down and just cry with her but it is my job to hold it all together around here. I held her on my lap and told her, "I know you miss Daddy. I miss Daddy too. But while he's gone we're still a family and we need to work together and love each other." I was convinced we were on our way to harmony but she woke up and threw another fit.
Things have been fairly peaceful around here since then, but again, it's all a reminder of what we're going through and what is yet to come. I met our new veterinarian yesterday and she thanked me for my service. Another blink back tears moment for me. This is hard, and it's only going to get harder.
It's setting in for all three of us that Aaron is going to be gone for a while.
Don't be confused. He is not gone yet. He is currently in training away from home. Every military wife knows that at some point before a deployment her love will undergo some kind of training. So, in addition to the "however many months they are gone for deployment," the solider/sailor/airman/marine undergoes training which also is done away from the family.
My daughter has been throwing massive fits this week. I ask her to do one thing and she explodes, screaming, yelling, crying, angry. I always joke that she's five going on sixteen. It makes me sad. Wednesday night she just cried in her room, "I want Daddy back! I want Daddy back!" It stings a little bit, but I try very hard not to take it personally. I really wanted to lie down and just cry with her but it is my job to hold it all together around here. I held her on my lap and told her, "I know you miss Daddy. I miss Daddy too. But while he's gone we're still a family and we need to work together and love each other." I was convinced we were on our way to harmony but she woke up and threw another fit.
Things have been fairly peaceful around here since then, but again, it's all a reminder of what we're going through and what is yet to come. I met our new veterinarian yesterday and she thanked me for my service. Another blink back tears moment for me. This is hard, and it's only going to get harder.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Phase I Begins
I like to call this part Phase 1.
We begin our countdown to our next deployment. Which involves me getting mentally prepared for what is to come. I've never dealt well with change. I always internalize it until it manifests itself into negative thinking and depression.
I have to find outlets for this negativity. A huge source of stress relief for me is going to the gym. Every time I think I can cope without a gym membership it always comes back to haunt me. I get agitated if I don't have a way to deal.
Going to the gym is my prayer time. It's my peace and quiet. I drop my son off at the child care area, and proceed to the cardio room. I turn on my music/podcast/radio and let the whole world drift away. I'm not a work out junkie or anything like that. Far from it, in fact, I hate working out. But when he's gone it's the only weekly time I get to myself. So it's worth it, to me at least.
I digressed! Mentally preparing for a deployment, for me, involves acceptance. To accept the fact that I cannot change it and that I will have to cope with lonely days and nights. To be able to reach down inside myself and summon strength that I'm not sure is there.
I reached this point just about one week ago. As my husband and I turned in for the night, it hit me that soon our bed would transform from being a spot of warmth and comfort to being a cold, empty piece of furniture. I began to cry. I couldn't even stop the tears from falling. My husband held me as I cried. The reality has set in. Deployment is coming and neither of us can stop it.
We begin our countdown to our next deployment. Which involves me getting mentally prepared for what is to come. I've never dealt well with change. I always internalize it until it manifests itself into negative thinking and depression.
I have to find outlets for this negativity. A huge source of stress relief for me is going to the gym. Every time I think I can cope without a gym membership it always comes back to haunt me. I get agitated if I don't have a way to deal.
Going to the gym is my prayer time. It's my peace and quiet. I drop my son off at the child care area, and proceed to the cardio room. I turn on my music/podcast/radio and let the whole world drift away. I'm not a work out junkie or anything like that. Far from it, in fact, I hate working out. But when he's gone it's the only weekly time I get to myself. So it's worth it, to me at least.
I digressed! Mentally preparing for a deployment, for me, involves acceptance. To accept the fact that I cannot change it and that I will have to cope with lonely days and nights. To be able to reach down inside myself and summon strength that I'm not sure is there.
I reached this point just about one week ago. As my husband and I turned in for the night, it hit me that soon our bed would transform from being a spot of warmth and comfort to being a cold, empty piece of furniture. I began to cry. I couldn't even stop the tears from falling. My husband held me as I cried. The reality has set in. Deployment is coming and neither of us can stop it.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Into This Mess Part 4
In January of 2008, after we moved from San Diego to Washington, Ahron left for an advanced school back in Maryland, while I held down the fort (finally out of an apartment and into a rental house). He finished his school with honors on our son's first birthday and flew home to be with us for the party.
We knew after his school he'd be flying out to meet his ship in the Persian Gulf. During this time, my parents and family were a huge source of support. I stayed very busy through the summer and we were reunited in October.
At that time we also decided to make the move closer to base, so we could actually all live together while Ahron's ship was in port. That first deployment was the precursor to our current reality. In many ways, it set us up for what is about to come. In 2008, we spent a total of about 8.5 months apart.
We knew after his school he'd be flying out to meet his ship in the Persian Gulf. During this time, my parents and family were a huge source of support. I stayed very busy through the summer and we were reunited in October.
At that time we also decided to make the move closer to base, so we could actually all live together while Ahron's ship was in port. That first deployment was the precursor to our current reality. In many ways, it set us up for what is about to come. In 2008, we spent a total of about 8.5 months apart.
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