Remembering

Lately, I've been relearning a lot of things. As life gets "easier" and I let my guard down, things seem to creep in, slowly, sneakily. Cetain things, certain "triggers" I instantly react to, and the red flag flies high. I immediately raise my defenses to those triggers and am determined never to take those bullets again. But other things, seemingly smaller things, I let in, bit by bit, until I start to lose my grip and have to regain my focus before I even really know it's gone.

It can be tricky, this balancing act I perform. But it doesn't have to be. That's the frustrating thing. I know what to do to stay focused, to keep my priorities straight. Shockingly, though, I'm imperfect and naturally quite lazy. It's so much easier to watch a movie with the kids than go to my support meetings. After all, my kids "need" me. Ah, but I am a better mother and wife when I take care of myself. It's so much easier to just cater to my family than to deny them any want, even though it takes more out of me than I have to give.

I already know what I need to do and how to do it. Honestly, it's as simple as going to bed at a decent hour and making sure I get my vegetables each day. I make sure it happens for the kids, but, for some reason, it's so much harder to make it happen for myself.

And that train of thought lets me know that it's time to get back on track, to re-start, to make changes--again. It's a good thing, though. It's good to remember being better and being worse, to appreciate how far I've come--how far my family has come--and to understand how much farther we have the opportunity to go.

Most of all I am ever grateful to know what strength lies behind me, before me, within me, and that I can simply call on Him, let Him in, and He will make me what He needs me to be.

All I need do is remember.

A Summary Ending and a New Beginning

We made it through that deployment with love and support from an abundance of family and friends and a loving Heavenly Father. Braden made it home for the birth of our son, leaving after his two week leave only to return and surprise me some months later with a very lucky and rare opportunity to have a second leave. I can honestly say that was the best surprise I have ever had.

Then, some months after that, our husband and father came home to us for good and we felt all would be well forever after, that we would live our lives in rays of sunshine and fields of daisies. We soon found out the only sure thing about life is its unpredictability.

Braden has now been home from Iraq for four years and we are still putting the pieces of our lives together. Through much work and love, sweat and tears, we made it to where we are now. Only a soldier's wife could understand the battles we have fought since his homecoming, the victories we have earned, and the defeats we have suffered. Each day we encounter new struggles and new triumphs. But we are together in spite of it all, and better and stronger for it.

And, sometimes, the rays of sun shine down on us and I smell a hint of daises.

Together Again for A Moment

The next time we saw each other was a few weeks later in California. Braden's unit was there, finishing up their training, so another wife and I got together and drove out to pick our soldiers' up, instead of waiting another day for them to drive home. One thing to be understood about these kinds of situtations is that every moment is precious. If one more hour, one more moment can be had, we take it, no matter the cost!

I was nervous to make the drive. I had been able to avoid ever driving anywhere more than a few miles outside of my hometown, and I would be driving a borrowed vehicle in California traffic! Things went fairly smoothly, though, and I wasn't required to drive through any big cities, other than Vegas. That in itself is an adventure, but we survived! We did have one situation where we had to pull over to the side of the road and take care of some kid issues. Finally, we arrived at the base safe and mostly sound, went through the checkpoint, and searched for our soldiers. There they were, walking along the side of the road, handsom in their uniforms, eyes lit up as they recognized us.

It's a funny thing to be reunited after weeks or months of separation. I felt kind of shy, like a first date feeling, though I was carrying his child, had given birth to another, and we had been married for 2 1/2 years! The shy feeling was quickly overcome as he held me tightly in his arms and we remembered each other again.

We were able to book a room at the hotel on base. This was another little miracle because we had called rather late and at first nothing was available, then only smoking rooms were available (me being pregnat, that wasn't going to work), then, at last, after a few more phone calls, a suitable room opened up. I'm wondering if the front desk just kicked someone out of a room so I would quit calling!

After we checked in to our rooms, the guys took us on a tour of the base. It was a fairly depressing place and I felt for the sodiers who had to spend weeks and months there, training and looking forward to nothing but more of the same or worse after getting to Iraq. They had a small movie theater and a couple of fast food restaurants as well as a small shopping center to buy odds and ends. The soldiers whose families' couldn't come pick them up stayed outside in large tents filled with bunk beds. There were outhouses scattered every few hundred yards outside the tents and a few small kiddie pools where soldiers sat on folding chairs, cooling their tired feet. I almost wished I hadn't come and seen how Braden had been living. If it was like this training in the US, how would it be overseas in the middle east?

"Tank Crossing"

Saying Goodbye

The first time we said goodbye was the easiest. We didn't know what to expect and we knew we'd be seeing each other again in the next couple of months after Braden was done with his training and before the deployment to Iraq. We drove to the airport, hugged, kissed, cried, took pictures, and away he flew, into the unknown.


We talked daily. While Braden was in the states training he had a cell phone and easy access to pay phones, so things weren't that bad at the beginning. I sent him pics of our growing girl and my growing belly, along with lengthy emails detailing our days and how he was missed. Not too much of the missing stuff, though, as it helped none of us to dwell on that. We purchased a video camera right before he left and I documented with that as well.

Just a month and a half after Braden left, we had the opportunity to fly out to a city near his base and visit on one of his weekends off. Plane ticket prices were atrocious, but it was worth every penny and more to see him, hold him, and laugh with him again, just for a couple of days. In the days before we flew out, I went back and forth quite a bit, trying to decide if I should take my one year old with me or not. I decided to take her in the end and am so glad I did. She was such an angel the whole trip, sleeping most of the time every plane ride, and behaving so well all the rest of the time. She was so excited to see her daddy when he met us at the hotel and ran straight into his arms. We saw all the sights we could cram into the weekend and enjoyed ourselves immensely. Then came time to say good bye once again. This time was much, much harder. We now knew the loneliness, the aching, the changes we would be parting for, and we did not want it, but, like I said before, someone had to do it and it was a sacrifice we had to make.

My heart seemed to be ripping apart as we drove away to catch our flight the last morning of our trip. Braden stood at the curb of the hotel, his hand raised in farewell, visibly fighting back the tears. I cannot explain the emotions, they were too overwhelming to be able to put into words. All I can say is that I never wanted to feel them again. But there were more goodbye's to come, more new emotions to feel and learn from in the ensuing months.

The cab driver was friendly and tried to make conversation when we first began our drive, but I didn't trust myself to speak, or even think. I just sat staring out the window, my baby girl in my arms, struggling with tears and realizing Braden wouldn't hold his baby girl again for many more weeks. After that, who knew how long it would be before he felt her chubby little arms around his neck and her sweet little voice saying his name.

After we arrived at the airport it was easier. My mind was busy with checking luggage, finding our gate and entertaining a baby. Addy made a friend at the airport, a little boy about 3 years old who loved her bright green shirt and followed her all around the terminal. His parents ended up being retired from the Navy and they sympathized with my plight. I was ever grateful for someone who understood what it was like and gave such words of encouragement and hope. I needed it then and would rely on others more than ever as my true journey as a soldier's wife began.

A True Patriot

This post is out of order of my "novel". I just want to write a bit about what it means for me to be a soldier's wife and a little bit about what I feel that title really means. My husband has been home from Iraq for 2 years, now. With the 4th of July just passed, I have been reflecting a lot on our country and what it means to be a part of it.

Today I watched my husband struggle to fight off the demons that are tormenting him inside. He is suffering from many issues that surfaced for him during his tour of duty in Iraq. I felt so helpless, at a loss for what to do, what to say, so I prayed. Heavenly Father heard my prayer and blessed me with a knowledge of how to heal, how to help. The answer was love. So is it worth it? What's the point of all of this? These wars, these politics, his service. My answer is yes, it's worth it. And the reason is love. This country and its government were founded by God. It was set apart by Him because of His great love for us, to be a place of freedom for those who were/are oppressed. For those very first pilgrims who traveled here from so far away, it was a place to truly love and serve God as He would have them do. America is still that place today, and will be forever more, as long as we continue to love and serve Him as he would have us do. The key, as always, is love.

So we sacrifice and serve to keep this country free. We sacrifice and serve because we love our country and the God who founded it. We sacrifice and serve because we love our families, friends, the Iraqi people and all people who suffer from oppression. We sacrifice and serve because it is our duty. And we pay a price, yet it is still worth it. The pain my husband suffers is not in vain. It is pain that shows he is human, that he feels, that he cares about what happens to his fellow men, American or not. He saw so much misery, so much hate, so much destruction that now it haunts him day and night. Is it worth it? Perhaps not to those who do not love. But when asked the question "Is it worth it?", my husband and I will answer, without hesitaition: "Yes." Because of Love.

Forging Bonds

The next few weeks we tried to cram in every bit of "quality time" we could. We had a weekend away just the two of us up to a nearby ski resort where we had access to a condo. It was wonderful just being together out there in the near-wilderness, pretending life away and imagining that we would never be parted. Much of the rest of those few weeks are a bit hazy for me. I remember get-togethers with family and friends, an early Easter celebration, a few glitches with the guard and hoping he wouldn't have to go, finding out he did have to go (all over again!), and feeling very uptight, anxious and ornery. I'll blame some of that last bit on the pregnancy hormones, though I'm sure the thought of my husband leaving for a year and a half had something to do with it.

Through all this I remained fairly calm and collected, (besides the hormonal episodes, which were few and far between if I do say so myself). My heart ached most when I looked at my one year old daughter, Adelyn, and realized how much she had grown in so little time, how much her daddy would be missing, and how much she would be missing him. She was, and still is, her daddy's girl through and through. From the moment she came into this world his is the first face she focused on and the first fingers she touched (after the doctor and nurses were done with her).

Our little girl was a preemie and I was very sick and weak bringing her into this world. I remember the moment I first saw her and stroked her little, slimy, beautiful head. Then she was whisked away to her incubator in the nursery and I slept for many hours, but her daddy was by her side every minute he could be. I believe a bond was forged in those first precious moments between them of the kind that cannot be understood but by those who are part of it.

Many times over the course of our separation while Daddy was in Iraq, I saw a connection between them that was unexplainable and extraordinary. When Daddy was having a bad day, thousands of miles across the world, a little two year old girl would whine and cry for no apparent reason and need her daddy, for no one else could comfort her. When his phone call would come the next day and he told of his struggles, I would finally understand what had been wrong with my little girl! More than a few times she felt her daddy's pain and wanted so badly to comfort him on those hardest days. We watched our home videos of Daddy over and over again. I finally printed a small picture of him that she could have of her very own to carry around with her and keep in her crib at night. It's crumpled face and torn edges quickly attested to how much it - he - was loved by her.

Sharing the News

As Braden's parents walked into the room, they could sense something was wrong. His mom looked at my puffy, red eyes in concern, but didn't say anything. Braden looked at me and said "Want to tell them the news?" "No" I said firmly. "I don't want to tell anyone." Braden obviously didn't want to tell them, either. After a few awkward moments, I told them about the phone call, not meeting their eyes as I did so. They sat in stunned silence for a moment and then the quesions began.

Braden had been called up into a unit that was not his own. The unit being called out was short a few people and Braden had been out of the country when his own unit had been deployed a year earlier, so his name was high on the list for possible fill-ins. Thus, the surprise at the call and the limited preparation time we all had before he was deployed. On the up-side, the unit he was going with had already been training for three months so his own deployment would be that much shorter in comparison to theirs. One looks for the up-side in these kind of situations.

The next few weeks went by in a blur. After I got over my own shock, I was able to tell my mom. I broke the news casually in her kitchen as she was preparing dinner. I didn't want everyone else to hear, to turn it into a big deal. After hearing the news, my mom immediately came and put her arms around me asking "Are you okay?" "Yeah," I said, not sure if it was really true. I had accepted it as something that was going to happen by then, and felt ready to face the challenge. Was I okay, though? I'm not sure if military wives are ever okay faced by the prospect of their husbands leaving for war. But we learn to find strength. We gain it from our faith, our family and friends, and our own personal support groups. It becomes merely something that has to be done, and we are the ones chosen to do it. There is little time or energy for self-pity or worry. Allowing those demons into our lives is too destructive and we are smart enough, and strong enough, to replace that with the truth that we are serving something much greater than ourselves.

With Braden's deployment I gained the knowledge and testimony of what freedom truly means, what things are worth sacrificing for. I gained an understanding that we who are so blessed in this great country have an obligation, an opportunity to serve others less fortunate than ourselves. We are no longer in a community, a city, or a country. We are a world full of the human race, needing each other to stand strong, to serve and to love. We are God's children, and as such, we are brothers and sisters fighting through this life in way one or another, and the more we can do for each other, the easier the fight and the better this world will be.

My dad's immediate reaction when he heard the news was to offer us a place to stay while Braden was gone. We'd had an offer in to buy a house, but I was too scared to try a new home, new neighborhood, a new baby and no husband, all at the same time. I gratefully accepted my dad's kind offer and soon after that the real preparations began.