Whispers - Guest Post by Erika @ Chambanachik

It is rare that I find the time to sit and write these days. Life is ... well ... life.

I asked one of my favorite bloggers to share a post with all of you. I had no idea what she was going to write about I just asked her to write. When she messaged me that she had sent her article and when she said what the topic was I took a long, deep breath.

I had no idea how she was going to talk about it and I was nervous about what may be waiting.

When I opened the file and read her words, she left me with chills. Because none of us are talking ... we don't talk about such things ... none of us are talking - we whisper. 

Whispers

Late at night, we whisper.

Because the president spoke today. He stood at a podium with a lot of people scribbling notes and holding recorders. And we listened with a different kind of intensity. We've long forgotten how to listen like the rest of the country. We don't know how to be apathetic about politics anymore. We don't hear that the government is planning a strike or going to war. Instead, it's so personal that it takes our breath away. Instead, we hear the people with suits and microphones saying, "Your husband is going. Your wife is going. Your brother, your aunt, your cousin...I'm sending them."

We whisper. We worry. We wonder.

We know their job. We can rattle off acronyms a mile long, name obscure villages they've deployed to in war torn countries, and explain OPSEC and PERSEC. We're the ones that wash their uniforms, soiled with dirt and sand from the places we're scared to ask about. Some of us waited in the recruiter's office with them. Many of us sat around the kitchen table with them long after dinner was cleared away, debating pros and cons of reenlistments. They go, but we're in this with them. They go, but we grapple with the fallout at home.

And so, we whisper those questions, softly, hesitantly, late at night when the dark room disguises the fright that lines our faces. When? How long? Why? They're questions that don't have answers, but we ask them anyway. We know we aren't alone in the asking; all of our friends are asking the same ones.

Our minds flash to our babies, our houses, and all the things we would have to take charge of singlehandedly for a while. Timetables are drafted in our minds. Scenarios are imagined down to every last detail. We build up plans on words that can crumble or shift in an instant. A hand on their chest or brushed against their cheek, we say a silent prayer that we don't even know the words to but hope is heard anyway.

We know they'll go whether they agree with the fight or not. We know they'll go so the rest of us can stay safe at home. We often think about how brave they are.

But tonight, if only for a little while, we remember how brave we are, too. We're brave even if we can't speak it above a whisper sometimes.

About the Writer: 

My name is Erika.
I live in Chambana, a flat Midwestern college town-

hence the name of this blog.

I'm a mama to (almost) two, a soldier's wife, a college student,

and I love to write in between it all.
I'm an INFJ, which means I talk a lot more in this space
than I do in 'real life'.

Visit Erika at Chambanachik and enjoy her awesome blog!! 

Thank you, Erika!

The PCS Chronicles, Part 1 - Jackie Williams

One of the coolest things about this life is the people you meet in it. They come from every walk of life, every state - different countries, even. We each have our own histories and beliefs and backgrounds ... and college sports teams. 

The bonds we make are strong, quickly set, and carry through from one post to another. They are even strong enough to bring LSU and BAMA fans together. 

Jackie has been confused as my "sister" for reasons neither of us can really understand. I guess we are both short. And high-pitched. And a bit hyper. But she is die-hard Ala-bama and I am heart-breakingly for LSU. 

No idea where the confusion comes from. 

Sometimes the Army listens when we tell them where we want to go. 

Sometimes. 

But more often they laugh, point, laugh some more, and then put you somewhere totally different. Jackie has just undergone her latest PCS to a place ... ummmm ... not anywhere near the top of their "wish list". I asked her to share the journey and this is where it starts. Thanks, "sister", and GEAUX TIGERS!! 

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The PCS Chronicles: 

The laughs, sighs and tears of pcsing with two boys cross 1, 200 miles.

We are the 'other' Williams family (almost) formerly of Ft Carson hitting the road with our two boys, Lil Man who is dapper and eager to start kindergarten this Fall, and Lil Guy, our toddler who loves the word 'no' and believes he's already 'fourt.' In our first six years of marriage, the mister and I have lived in four different states, nearly half of the time separated by 5, 000 miles or more. Between Lil Warriors, The Little Gym, swim lessons and playdates, I squeezed in a few volunteer hours [she's being VERY modest here], a few photo sessions and a home-based business that helps keep every other aspect of our life organized.

Six months ago, it was cold in Colorado and the mister emailed me a spreadsheet with 25 different assignments to be ranked and submitted back to HRC before Thanksgiving. So I did what I do best, research. I researched schools. I researched housing. I researched kid-friendly activities. I researched ease of travel because we have three sets of grandparents and an auntie and an uncle who 'need' to hang out with their boys. And then I prayed.

We compared our lists and the mister submitted them, after having me recheck the order three times. And then we prayed. And we waited.

The first week of December came and went and no assignment as promised. The second week came and went and still no assignment. Then came December 17th, the day of the Installation Holiday Volunteer Social and the first day of the mister's holiday leave. And the day he received his next assignment, a nomivated position, one only the top 15% of candidates are selected for, one that definitely will look great on his records. Too bad the location nor assignment was #21 of 25 on our list.

It took 45 minutes for the mister to wrap his around it. It took 15 minutes for it to sink in for me and then I was ready to start planning our next move.

These last six months have had their highs, their lows and their sideway moments. I have waited, sometimes fearfully, sometimes anxiously, for the Army to throw us a curve ball. But here we are in temporary lodging and nearly ready to watch the mountains grow smaller in our rearview mirrors as we head 1, 200 miles southeast.

----------------------------

Thanks for sharing, Jackie!! 

Have you ever received an assignment that you just weren't expecting? How did you handle it? Was it better than you thought?

Be sure to check back for Part 2 of The PCS Chronicles. 

Featured Blogger - From Pearls to Dog Tags

Cate is one of my Different Perspectives Bloggers. Reading her posts always take me back to when I was in her shoes. She is the girlfriend of a soldier and it amazes me how similar her story is to the beginning of my own. I love how awesome her outlook is so soon into this lifestyle and look forward to seeing her journey progress. If you are a girlfriend of a service member jump on over to From Pearls to Dog Tags and be encouraged by her and share your story. If you have gone from girlfriend to spouse, please head on over too and give her the pep talk that we all need but is so much harder to find during the earliest stage of this life. Keep writing, Cate!

How Did I Get Here? - A Guest Post by Amanda

Amanda is a Texas girl (I KNOW there are plenty of Texas ladies reading) who has lived this life for nearly four years. However, her first experiences with the struggles of this life didn’t come from the lessons from her husband but from her brother who – eight years ago – became a soldier. In this post she talks about what so many people ask (and what we often ask ourselves): How Did We Get Here?

How did I get here?

People ask me all the time how I ended up in this Army Life.  People ask even more when they hear that since January 2008 I have gone from my husband being deployed to my cousin deploying, then my brother, and now my husband again.  

Was I raised in an Army family?  No.  

Did I live near an Army post?  No.  

Did I seek out an Army man?  No.  

How did I get here?   I’m not entirely sure.  

These questions are usually followed by someone asking if it is worth all the sacrifice but the answer to that question is not the same as the rest.  Yes, it is worth it.  When they ask why, I silently go back to the day we got engaged.

I think of the day we got engaged and in some ways it is more of a testament to our commitment than our wedding day.  Our wedding day was fantastic - don’t misunderstand me.  The pretty dress, all our family and friends, all eyes on me and compliments flowing from sunrise to sunset - it was a wonderful day.   But the day we got engaged there were no flowers.  There was no pretty dress and if I recall correctly there wasn’t even make up.

My now husband was stationed at Fort Hood and I was finishing up my senior year of college an hour and a half away.  TMO was at his house packing everything up for his move to Colorado. We had been packing, cleaning through junk, cleaning up all of his gear from his deployment, and had spent the previous 2 days working diligently to get things as ready as possible.  I was exhausted!   I took a midday nap before I was going to head back to College Station.

I was woken up from my nap by my soldier on his knees, tears in his eyes as he watched me sleep.  Excuse me, let me correct myself.  They were not tears - he had an “allergy attack.” Whatever you want to call it, his eyes were watering as he woke me up.  He began to tell me how much he loved me, how excited he was for our future, and asked me to marry him.  We weren’t at a fancy restaurant or on a romantic vacation like I had always dreamed.  I wasn’t glammed up to the T and didn’t have perfectly pruned nails ready for photos.  The ring he picked out wasn’t even ready from the jeweler yet, but he just couldn’t stand to wait.  He said he was just so excited to start our life together that he wanted to start as soon as we could.

We were in the middle of moving mess. We had been up to our ears cleaning sand out of gear from Iraq.  How does that sand get everywhere?!  We were both completely broke, barely able to fill our vehicles up with gas to see each other on the weekends.  Life was not glamorous, and we were going into it with eyes wide open.  We had begun our relationship during his first deployment, so I wasn’t blind to the struggles of that.  We knew how difficult things may get and we were not blinded by love’s gaze.  We knew.  Yet he still asked, and I still said yes.  

I said yes that day and even though our wedding was 20 months later, I committed my life to him that day. I agreed to take on this army life, whatever it would be, and there hasn’t been a single day that I’ve regretted it.  Sure, it’s not always easy. It wasn’t easy as I dropped my one year old off at day care this morning, dressed so handsome in a plaid button up shirt and khaki pants, explaining to his teachers that it was my “engagement anniversary” and I’d be taking our son out on a date to celebrate. It’s not fun balancing both roles and taking on the responsibility of a single parent while still having a spouse to take care of.  But it’s worth it.  When I get home and I take off my makeup and I’m in the mess of life, I think back to that day.  With the glamour stripped away we chose each other, and we continue to choose each other each day.  That is what makes the army life worth it.  He makes it worth it.

Featured Blogger - Wife of a Soldier

Wife of a Soldier has followed her soldier through active duty, Army Reserves and currently Army National Guard.  In 5yrs of marriage, they've had 4 children, moved 4 times, fallen in love with their vocation to the military life and she has blogged it all.  Now as her husband prepares for his first deployment, she's started up a new blog specifically aimed at recording the thoughts and adventures that come with this journey.  She hopes to provide encouragement and support to the numerous military families also serving "the land of the free and home of the brave."  Please join in her adventures at  Charlie Mike while I begin settling in to Fort Carson.

Also check out her guest post if you missed it: Truth

Learning to Write in Pencil - A Guest Post

Like so many of us, Jamie never thought she would fall for a marine. She is currently trying to balance a demanding job while planning a wedding through a long distance engagement all as her fiancée introduces her to the life of a Reserve Marine. She has offered to give a little glimpse into her journey as she tries to maneuver this crazy road. Please offer her the support we all need. Thanks for writing, Jamie!

Learning To Write In Pencil

A few months after my Marine and I were engaged, I met for coffee with a fellow military spouse. “Write everything in pencil,” she said.  “Things always change, especially when you least expect them to.”  These words rang through my head earlier this month when just as things seemed to be going as planned. Everything is okay and back on track now.

Ring,.. ring... I looked at my caller ID... it was my Marine. I was surprised to be hearing from him that Friday night. He’s a Marine Reservist and was on a drill weekend. He hardly ever calls on those Fridays or anytime during the weekend until he is on his way home on Sunday evening.

At that point a pit began forming in my stomach. Various thoughts began forming in my head, the biggest one... Are they deploying? When? Where? How long?

“Hey babe, I don’t have long to talk,” he said quickly.

“What’s up?” I reply.

“We might have a problem with the wedding,” he told me.

When we decided to push the wedding up and he decided to transfer to finish school here we looked at the calendar and picked the August date carefully. It wasn’t too close to when he would be starting school and it wasn’t the first weekend of the month, which is typically his drill weekend.

I couldn’t speak. My mom and I had just hours ago went to the reception hall and paid the deposit. All of the things that had been planned, but up in the air, were finally starting to become set.

“Hello?” “Hello?” he said.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” I said. “What’s the problem?”

“We might need to change the date of the wedding. They scheduled drill for that weekend. I could get out and so could Sgt. P (one of the other guys in his unit is serving as our DJ), but it is Gunny’s retirement ceremony” he quickly explained.

I could tell that he was in a hurry.

“I don’t know if we can. Mom and I just paid the deposit today. I don’t know if there will be other weekends available. We have people flying in from out of town, who might have already booked flights. I won’t be able to do anything until Monday” I told him, trying not to sound upset.

“I know, sweetie,” he told me. “just try, okay. I don’t want to miss it. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you Sunday. I love you.”

“Love you too.” I tell him.

When I got off the phone my mom could immediately tell that something was up.

I explained the whole thing to her. She just listened, and then said.

“It’s April Fool’s Day...do you think he might be joking, just to get you riled up?” she replied, after I was completely finished.

I called him right back. Before he could finish saying hello I launched into:

“Do you know what today is, April 1st?” “Is this some type of a joke” “IT BETTER NOT BE!”

“No, no, I would never do that to you,” he reassured me. “I love you!” “I’ll call you Sunday.”

It was at this moment that it hit me square in the face how much of a part the USMC will play in our life. I don’t mind, in fact, I couldn’t imagine life any differently. When I said “yes” to him, I chose this life and said “yes” to it too.

I made four phone calls that night to the people I knew were flying in from out of town. I explained the situation and told them I would have a confirmation of dates by the end of the week. I also emailed my bridesmaids. I apologized to them AGAIN about the unpredictability of the wedding and told them about the possible change of plans. Let’s just say, I have, in my opinion, the BEST bridal party anyone could ask for.

Finally, I emailed my boss. I had already put in for my time off for August. I did it this early, because of the position I hold. I am in management and know that for me to take off an extended amount of time will take planning and training. I had already gotten the approval for the previous timeframe. I wanted to let him know what was going on and that I would give him the definite dates as soon as I knew them, I just wanted him to void those previous dates. His reply came within minutes and was a startling reminder of what this life will bring. His reply was this.

“I’ll pencil it in, and remember, it’ll all be okay.”

One day, I’ll remember this lesson, but until then I believe that reminders will come when I least expect them.

Pollyanna - Guest Post by Rena

One of the things I have enjoyed most while writing this blog is the amazing connections I have made with other military spouses. I have been very blessed to hear from and to get to know many reserve and guard families who have offered an incredible perspective. I first introduced Rena with her guest post One Weekend a Month and Two Weeks a Year where she introduced me to the Guard/Reserve side of this life. I am so very happy that she is guest posting again. If you are a guard/reserve spouse or family member and have any questions please post them below. She has a lot of experience with that side of this life and I know she is more than willing to respond. Thanks, Rena, for writing again!

Pollyanna

My husband has always been a bit of a Pollyanna to me.  He has an unerring ability to look on the bright side of things, find the good in every bad situation, and always think positive.  As a wife of a soldier, I tend to be pessimistically realistic about situations, preferring to think the worst-case scenario as what will be so that I’m not creating false hope and having them dashed at a later date.   This way, I’m then happy if and when things turn out for the better rather than disappointed when hey don’t.  We are great for each other in this, each one tending to balance out the other on our little “rowboat of life”, being each other’s rock or counterbalance when we find ourselves in uncertain waters.

My husband’s position at his normal 9-5 employment has been eliminated.  We found this out nine months into his 365+ day deployment to Afghanistan during his recent R&R.  I imagine this happens to more National Guardsmen and Reservists than I care to think about.  Factories, offices, corporations all continue to run when our men and women are called to duty and personnel are needed to keep any company afloat.  When service members are called up, their positions are often given to another employee, transferred to another department, or, as in our case, eventually eliminated altogether.  Those who own their own businesses close their shops and lose their clientele.  Promotions are bypassed and careers are put on hold.  Such is the nature of the Guard and what is at risk when service members choose to serve.  

My husband and his Pollyanna attitude are not worried.  By law under USERRA, any deployed soldier is guaranteed his position back or, if unavailable, must be given a position of equal stature and pay.  He is protected from simply being cast aside, though the matter of how long a company must retain a deployed service member once they return from deployment is a grey area. But unlike active duty members, who continue to advance their careers during deployments, gaining promotions and advancing in rank, Guardsmen and Reservists put their careers on hold. 

His employer has been fantastic to us during this time, and I have absolutely no complaints and nothing but major praises for a company that has not only supported its deployed employee, but that employee’s family as well.  I have gotten phone calls checking in on us, and any questions I have had, have always been answered within the hour, with lots of follow up to ensure that my question had indeed been answered.  I am told that his name is brought up almost daily and is fresh in the company’s minds.  There will be many hugs when he eventually returns there to work.

No, my Pollyanna is not worried… or if he is, he’s not voicing it.  And since I trust him and respect his judgment, I will swallow my pessimism this time and choose to believe him and, more importantly, to believe in him.  Our rowboat is still afloat because of him and his unerring faith.  We will meet whatever the next challenge is together like we always do.

He is my counterbalance in our rowboat. He is my rock.

Featured Blogger - The New "Normal"

Kris is an Army National Guard Spouse who has just started her first deployment. Four years ago they decided as a family that they were called to live this life and he enlisted. With two kids she is bravely facing the year ahead of her ready to learn from and be strengthened by the ups and downs. Hop on over to The New "Normal" and join in her journey while I sign on in to post-housing at Ft Carson.

Featured Blogger - Dr Army Wife

I am probably rolling through the plains of Texas on some two-lane highway with no shoulder and no anything for miles and miles and miles except dirt and grass, no trees, just flat, flat land for as far as I can see, until forever, just land .... You get the point.

Pray that my children are sleeping, or quietly watching Toy Story for the third time, or sweetly talking to each other ... please.

And then head on over to Dr Army Wife's blog. She is quickly becoming one of my favorites.

Dr Army Wife

Truth - Guest Post

Laura Ross has followed her soldier through active duty, Army Reserves and currently Army National Guard.  In 5yrs of marriage, they've had 4 children, moved 4 times, fallen in love with their vocation to the military life and Laura's blogged it all.  Now as her husband prepares for his first deployment, she's started up a new blog specifically aimed at recording the thoughts and adventures that come with this journey.  She hopes to provide encouragement and support to the numerous military families also serving "the land of the free and home of the brave."  Please join in her adventures at her blog: Charlie Mike 

If it seems like I'm vacillating, I am. Though not as much as it may seem like through my blog posts, because those hard times are usually only fleeting seconds scattered on a canvas of joy-filled days. When I put those difficult times into words, it fills an entire post rather than just a few seconds.

The truth is, my life is good :) I am happy. I love my vocation as a wife and mother to our 4 children. And I am falling in love with my vocation as a military wife, thanks to being co-leader of our family group where I can actively make a difference in the lives of spouses, children, siblings, parents and friends of our soldiers. I will forward informative emails or invite friends to FB groups that support our military. It is something I feel strongly about and called to do - raising awareness and support for our military and their families. This is not a personal plea; there are thousands of military families out there who are everyday challenged to live this vocation.

I recently posted this article on my FB wall.(http://gagglemaggot.tumblr.com/post/4185240822/what-not-to-say-to-a-military-wife) The article is half kidding, though I know from experience, people do ask some crazy things and if you can respond with humor, it diffuses the urge to hit them over the head ;) A couple people responded with a "well, what can you say?" which, honestly was the first thing I thought after reading the article too. After looking back on my own experiences, I came up with several (hopefully!) helpful things.

*If you can't relate, then say so. "I can't imagine what you're going through..." It's ok, and it's refreshing to hear rather than things like "Oh! That's just like my husband's business trip last week! He was gone for 4 whole days and it was so hard to deal with the kids alone! How are you going to do it for a whole year!?"

First mistake is relating a deployment where you live with the stress and risk of losing your spouse on top of essentially living two people's lives in one person's time to a business trip where they come home and bring the kids bags of peanuts from the plane ride.

Second mistake is insinuating the whole negative "you can't do it" factor and the extreme length of it. We aren't ignorant to the fact it's hard. Or long. If a person has never experienced something and then make judgments about it, they come off sounding ignorant and even condescending. When you are in hardcore active labor, do you really want a nurse who's never been pregnant coming up and saying, "Wow! That looks hard! It's just like the time I got this paper cut and it hurt sooooo much....." Uh, no.

*Be positive. "I know you can get through this. You are a rockstar!" Soooo much nicer than focusing on all the negative aspects of a deployment which play in your head on repeat anyway. You would be amazed at how some simple uplifting words can turn someone's entire day around.

*Be sympathetic. This includes refraining from babbling to excess about the latest romantic date night with your hubby, or other topics that might be hard for someone without their spouse to hear. Are you entitled to talk about it? Of course, but we are also entitled to start sobbing or walk away from you. Many times, a military spouse just wants to vent. The reason we hesitate to vent to a civilian is that they don't understand what you are going through and furthermore, most don't even try. In a world screaming "TOLERANCE!!!," there is little sensitivity to families trudging through each day carrying the weight of two people. Listen to them, put yourself in their shoes and ask yourself what you would want someone to do for you.

*Be supportive. "What can I do to help?" Or better yet, "Bring the kids over Friday morning so you can go out and have some downtime!" "Do you all eat spaghetti? Good! I'm bringing a big pot of it over tomorrow night for your family to enjoy!" Offering general help is wonderful and immediately jumping into action is even better. Let's face it, it's harder to ask for help than to simply follow through on ready made plans. And be sincere. If you already feel overwhelmed, it's ok, but don't offer to help. There's nothing worse than bringing yourself to ask for help only to be rejected by someone who initially offered.

*Say prayers and give thanks. Pray for our modern day Heroes who selflessly sacrifice so that we can have the freedom to voice our opinion on the war they fight. Pray for their families who also proudly carry the burden. And when you see them, thank them for their service to our country.  Nothing means more than knowing people actually do care and support them. The military life is a not an easy one, but it is a blessed and necessary vocation.

On the Homefront - Guest Post by Adrienne

Adrienne Stravitsch is a proud Army wife, who's husband is currently deployed.  She is the mother to a very energetic sixteen month girl, and loves every second of it.  Together, she and her little battle buddy are holding down the homefront until their Soldier comes home. She blogs at Fun Size.

As I stood on the brink, in the midst of the boxes, camo bags, groceries and general mess, the reality of it all would grab me in the gut.  Fear of living without him, of losing him, of losing connection with him.  Anger at him leaving, being so brave, and feeling so insecure.  I was terrified at the prospect of not just surviving life without him for a year, but living life without him for a year.  Of living life joyfully.  Truly, this seemed impossible.  Living life without my husband and enjoying it seemed impossible. 

But, we are doing it!  This morning, I sit here with my cup of coffee, not just content but truly happy.  He's not home, but I have a fantastic husband fighting a fight that not many can.  Though she missed her Daddy terribly, I have a beautiful daughter, with whom I've been given a chance to bond in a way I wouldn't have.  Together, she and I fight together.  Who knew a sixteen month old could bring me such comfort, love, and security?  Though it takes longer to clean and keep up, I have a stable home full of fond memories with my husband and our child. 

I have realized that happiness doesn't depend on someone else.  Happiness is not my husband, not a clean house, not stability, structure, and schedule.  Happiness lies not in a cooked meal set on the table, steaming hot.  Happiness does not disappear when the husband leaves, when the daughter struggles to understand why her father vanished. 

Happiness lies in you.

Every morning, when my alarm pierces the air, I have a decision to make.  I can wallow in self-pity and remain in bed.  I can pull the sheets over my head and cry about the empty space next to me.  I can be miserable and mourn my husband's absence. 

Or, I can decide to be happy.  When my alarm pierces the air, I can choose to be giddy about waking my daughter, get excited about sharing precious and intimate moments shared with her while the early morning sun creeps into the kitchen.  I can focus on the sound of the coffee brewing, the dates with friends, the Skype-calls with my husband.  I can garner strength from the many prayers being said for our family.  I can focus on the structure we've carefully and consciously constructed on the Homefront. 

No, happiness, I have learned, does not lie in foreign things.  We pull the happiness from ourselves, especially as military wives.  We choose to reach deep down inside of ourselves, even in the dark moments when we miss the call, appliances begin shutting down, or the R&R gets pushed way back.  We decide to reach down, and we pull out the happiness.  We shift our perspectives, and force ourselves to focus on what we do have.  Because, when we shift that perspective, though initially painful, we are winning our fight. 

This morning, I choose to focus on the amazing and heroic courage my husband has in fighting a war far from his family.  I choose to focus on how this incredibly difficult lifestyle has not destroyed our relationship but, thank God, has brought us closer.  Taught me humility, patience, courage.  I choose to focus on having learned incredible flexibility in life's twists and turns.  I choose to revel in our beautiful family, my daughter, the laughs and intimate conversations shared over Skype.  I choose to find joy in my daughter still loving her Daddy, even if he is not home right now. 

Here, on this Homefront, we are not merely surviving.  We are living.  Living Joyfully.  Because that is what we choose to do. 

Reintegration Series - Part 1

Very often we focus on the 'finish line' - the getting home part. It is easy to think that getting here is the toughest part - getting 'here' is all that we need to get through. But that is only half the battle. Reintegration is a very personal struggle. It is different for every family, for every soldier, for every spouse. Sometimes are easier than other - and they don't necessarily become easier with each deployment. They may even become harder. While I have seen and listened to many other spouses' experiences with reintegration, I have never gone through this as a spouse. I think this is a very important time for spouses to understand what parts are normal and what parts are not - what parts you can push through together and what parts you may need the assistance the Military provides. Over the next several weeks - and maybe months - a spouse is going to share her story. Because of the personal nature of reintegration and what it can bring up - she will remain anonymous. If you comment below - which I encourage you to do so that we can strengthen and comfort each other - please do so anonymously (you have this choice when you fill out the comment form). This is a very personal topic and I am sure all service members would prefer that no connection be made to them and their family in a public forum. If you have any questions that you want to go in depth with you can always email me. 


He's Home! Those sound like the most wonderful words in the world to a woman who has been waiting for 12 months to share her home again - with a man who has always been the number one priority in her life. And they ARE the most wonderful words. She doesn't have to worry about what could happen to him in some distant land that she is never allowed to visit. She doesn't have to worry about when she'll get her next phone call just to hear his voice for 5 minutes (if that), or what to pack in that tiny flat rate box. Or even about waking up in the middle of the night to find a dog sleeping in his place.

But is this over? Has the deployment come to an end? Witnessing a homecoming as an outsider may suggest that it is. The cheers and laughter that echo throughout the hangar give us all a sense of relief. They are home. They are safe. I'm not saying this isn't the most wonderful feeling. Because it is. I am relieved. And the emotions that were felt that day ARE REAL. Honest to GOD joy! But the challenges still lie ahead.

Reintegrating for our first few deployments was difficult, but this one feels like it will be the hardest. I can't remember all of the details from the last few. And I wish I had written a journal then so I would have something to relate to now. But I will have to remind myself that he has changed. I don't know what he's seen or has been through (or if he'll even ever tell me), but I know there has been soo much pain this time. I have my own ideas by hearing tidbits from others. He is broken. I want to pick up the pieces, but I am not the one in control. I have to accept that it will take time for him to heal. I need to give him space even though I don't want to. I cling to him because I've missed him soo much. But it frustrates him. Little misunderstandings turn into arguments. I wonder if he's taking out his anger of past situations onto me. And then I snap at him. It's easy to say... "You haven't been here". And then I realize how wrong those words sounded. How could I say that? How hurtful. Like he asked to leave me. He didn't have a choice. Yes. We chose this lifestyle. But no one wants to leave their family for a year. And I know he only did it FOR me. And will continue to do it FOR us.

I feel like I shouldn't speak those words because I DO have him home with me now. And it sounds like petty little complaints in comparison to what could have been. Soo many others do not and will not have their soldiers. Soo many lost their soldiers. And I am ever grateful to them for their sacrifices. Nothing will ever make up for what they lost.


To be continued ... 

One Weekend a month and two weeks a year ...

Guest Post by Lorena
For our National Guard and Reserve Families: Lorena is the wife to a National Guard soldier currently deployed to Afghanistan. I asked if she would write a guest post and she did an excellent job. As active-duty (or "full-timers" as she calls us), one of the most vital tools to our "survival" is support and at times we may take that for granted. After reading this, it will be harder to do so. I know that she would appreciate any response from those of you in a situation much like her own.

"Guess what?" He types.

"What?" I type back.

"They show Army commercials here in between the TV programming."

"Really? Are they trying to recruit you?"

"Yeah. Apparently there’s this thing called the National Guard-- It’s only one weekend a month and two weeks a year. We should look into that."

“One weekend a month and two weeks a year.” Riiggghhhttt... A running joke in our household after eight months in to a yearlong deployment with his National Guard unit, we try to work the phrase into everything, just to have a laugh. If we complain about the Guard at all, most often it will end with a “but it’s only one weekend a month and just two weeks a year, babe!”

Don’t misunderstand me. I’m very proud of my husband—of his sacrifice. I’m proud of his unit and the mission they have been assigned. I’m proud of being a wife to a Guard soldier and his commitment to his country. It’s a core part of who he is and an integral part of the man I fell in love with. But being a National Guard family has unique challenges different from that of the full-time military. His armory is a hanger, two hours from our hometown. The nearest large installation is an Air Force base about an hour away. FRG meetings are held at the armory, and attending them is no small feat for a family with young children. The soldiers’ families in his unit are not congregated on a base, or even in one town; they are spread out over a region of about 100 miles. And so the cohesion and support network many regular duty families enjoy is simply nonexistent for National Guard families, something I’ve felt acutely over the past months. It’s been eight months and I have yet to see a single family from my husbands’ unit, which is a shame, since misery loves company and there really could be a great support group if we just lived closer. As such, we turn more to neighbors, friends, and family, most of whom have not the slightest indication of what it is to lose a member of one’s family for 12 months.

It can be a lonely world.

In the beginning, I heard the phrase “If there’s anything we can do to help, just ask” so much that my head would begin to ache with each time someone said it. Best intentions, but hard to actually act upon. As I tell my husband, people forget. When you’re not surrounded by other families who are going through the exact same ordeal or in the midst of it yourself, it’s very easy to see that yellow ribbon tied to a tree and offer, but then never follow through.

As for myself, I fully admit to having a hard time accepting help, even when it is offered in direct terms. Perhaps it makes me feel inadequate, like I should be Superwoman and be able to do it all. Maybe it’s that I don’t think the help really sincerely offered, but just something said since it seems appropriate. Maybe it’s that I don’t want to put people out or take advantage of them too much. After all, we are not their family, why should it be their issue if our toilet stops working? Regardless, asking for help has been a learned trait this past year. Lots of swallowed of pride. Lots of “If you have a minute…” or “if you don’t mind…” moments. Sometimes those who offered make good on their offer and help, other times they don’t. Sometimes I just wish they would barge through my front door and help without having to be asked.

I would never suggest that National Guard families have it harder than full time regular military families. To even think it would be an injustice to those families who go through these separations on a regular basis. Yet as the National Guard is used more and more outside of the realm of which it was intended—stateside and national missions—better assistance has to be found for those Guard families left behind. For the first time this month, the FRG meeting is going to be a telephone conference. Families need to find ways to communicate to with other, being that proverbial shoulder to lean on for one another like so many regular duty families are to one another. The Guard is no longer “one weekend a month, two weeks a year” like it’s advertised to be and service members join up knowing that they will face at least one deployment, if not more. Their families need access to the same support that full timers get.

Having been through this now, I have a greater appreciation for the military family as a whole. Of the sacrifices they make again and again and again. It is an appreciation that humbles me and makes me acutely aware of what that yellow ribbon means and what that family is likely experiencing… the heartache, the worry, and the pride. It is an experience like none other, and unless you endure it firsthand, you are unlikely to fully understand the implications of that yellow ribbon. I love a soldier, regardless if it’s a commitment of one weekend a month or a year deployment, I love a soldier. My eyes scan for yellow ribbons everywhere I go.