Tag Archives | anxiety

Here We Go Again…

As we prepare for yet another military separation (only 2 months this time…and stateside) the uneasiness begins. At least this time there is no fear, no war zone and communication should be easier. But the reality is that we will be without a husband and father…and now we add grandfather (Poppy) to the mix. There will be missed events and lonely days. There always are.

Winter is hard here in upstate NY and the prospect of shoveling or the terrifying thought of having to use the snowblower (you don’t want to know what happened last year with this machine of torture) again is not a welcome thing. Chores need to be done, things inevitably break and there’s not a month that goes by without some sort of crisis to manage…such is the norm for life with children and a home.

We will manage of course. There is no other option. Yes, we’ll be fine, but shouldn’t I be allow to bitch and whine and feel just a bit grumpy about it? Allow me a couple of days to have my annoyed pity party and then we’ll be back to the ordinary business of life. At least our version of normal life…though it may not be like most others it’s what we have chosen.

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Guard Gearing Up for Hurricane Irene

Hurricane Irene Makes Landfall in North Carolina

Image by NASA Goddard Photo and Video via Flickr

One of the most misunderstood aspects of the members of The National Guard (Air and Army) is that they serve two masters and face dual challenges of both national and state emergencies.
What this means in real terms is that they can be, and are frequently deployed in times of national conflict by the Air Force or Army as my husband has been in both Iraq and Afghanistan. They also can be mobilized in times of national or state emergencies as they were in Katrina and countless other times of crisis.
As they now gear up to aid in the unavoidable aftermath that will follow Hurricane Irene, I am reminded of how vital and valuable this often overlooked segment of the military is to our nation, our state and our people. I am ashamed to admit that I cringe each time we get a call from the base, never knowing when, where and for how long the soldier(AKA my husband) will have to go.
As I wait at home, I hope that we are over-preparing, I pray that the damage will be less than expected and I wish for the devastation to be over.

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One year ago…

One year ago today…

So happy this is behind us. At least for now.

waiting
D-Day

Today was very strange. Almost like a surreal anticipation of a gruesome event. The anxiety and feelings are so difficult to put aside and so pervasive that it is almost as though they take over every thought and action.

Sleep was elusive and fitful the night before. Almost like a solemn black Christmas that you know is upon you and are powerless to circumvent. You’ve accepted the reality and stopped fighting, but have not quite given up hope for a last minute pardon. My husband and I cuddle for the last time and cling to each other for strength; perhaps as if we can soak up enough love and comfort to last for the next half year.

The early morning beginning is deceptively normal, quiet and unbelievably routine, were it not that my soldier is going off to war instead of to work. We wake, have coffee and eat breakfast surrounded by an eerie quiet that seems to fit the mood. We are both lost in thought and don’t know quite what to say. We finish the packing, checking and double checking the uniforms, supplies, toiletries and the rest. The reprieve can only last so long and then the drive to the airport begins. The check-in, security and flight departure are uneventful, boring actually and seem to drag on forever.

Finally the flight is called and we say our final goodbyes amongst tears and hugs. We are surrounded by “civilians” who look on, perhaps curious about the destination or purpose. Thought our soldiers are in street clothes (for security purposes) most have huge military issue green bags that very easily identify them as military members of some kind.

Our loved ones wave as they disappear down the tunnel to board the waiting plane and then it is final.

We are left to offer comfort to the others left behind; the wife alone, the young mother, the young red-haired boy wailing his heart out and my children who are crying softly into my shoulder and clinging to each other. I hug the wife of my husband’s SMSgt and we promise to stay in touch. There are many other family members that I do not know.  Our soldiers train together on drill weekends and are a part of a team, but we are not. Many of these men, women and children I have never seen before and probably will not again until the homecoming. Still we share the loss and my heart goes out to them. We share a bond; that of sacrifice, strength and loneliness.  I square my shoulders, gather my children and take a deep breath.

This is D – day for us. It is the beginning of what will be a more than six month separation from the soldier we love. For this period of time at least we are all fighting a war; one we may not understand or approve. We are soldiers on the home front; the unnamed; the “ones left behind.”

And so it begins…

 

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