Happy Sad

One of my guilty pleasures is watching military homecomings. Whether it’s with their never-before-seen newborns, pets or family, I could watch homecomings for hours on end.  Could be a surprise could just be at the airport, docks, base, whatever.

One of the reasons I love these so much is because I’ve been there. My first husband was a U.S. Marine. He is a great man. I remember waiting for him at K-Bay (Kane’ohe Marine Corps Base). My stomach in knots. Nervous. I don’t know why you’re so nervous about seeing them again. It’s like you’re worried they won’t recognize you or be happy to see you. The biggest fear is they won’t be there. I scanned faces, frowning, you always get so depressed when you don’t see them immediately that fear they missed the plane/boat/bus or something much worse becomes palpable. I had my leis, my gifts in the car. There’s this monumental build. At any moment you feel like you’re just going to crumble to dust. Somehow, he got behind me. Tricky bastard. He wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered softly in my ear.  I spun around on my heels so quick I was dizzy and I fell into him and there was such a release in me. I clung to him like if I let go I was going to lose myself.  My body quivered and heaved and shook. I cried and shrieked and wailed and clawed at him.  I crushed the leis in my hand and couldn’t find words. There are no words for the relief, for the joy of a safe return. I was scared to let him go. We stood there for a long time while the tears slipped out and my voice was foreign to me. Even when he was putting his bags in the car I clung to him. His friend, who we called “Fez” had no one waiting for him, so I brought him a lei and a gift too and hugged him but kept one hand on my husband.

We spent nine months apart from each other. I wrote him letters every day and he told me some weeks when the mail got backed up he’d get a literal garbage bag full of mail from me. He was in Okinawa, Tinian, Philippines, Guam. When he was in Okinawa we could talk on the phone.  Sometimes I’d drive to the base to be able to have video chats (this was 2002 after all). I’d leave parties or friend’s houses early just to race home and be able to talk to him on the phone before he’d be out in the field for weeks.

It takes a special breed to wait and stay dedicated. The only reason I could do it that time was I had my family and friends as a support system. I lived in Hawaii (where I grew up) and my routine wasn’t demolished by his absence. When his next big deployment to Iraq rolled around in 2007, we had moved to North Carolina. I had no support system I had a few friends, no family and was looking for work after graduating college. I couldn’t do an indefinite deployment. I just couldn’t do it. 

I’ll never forget what that marriage taught me. I watch those videos because I can relate to what I see in their eyes. The mixture of love, relief, joy. I cry when I see these reunions because I know how scared they were. When they’re gone you’re terrified all the time. At least I was. I interacted socially. I kept myself busy but I was truly afraid every minute of the day. I slept with one of his dirty PT shirts on a pillow so I wouldn’t forget his scent. I kept pictures of him everywhere so I wouldn’t forget his face. I was recording TV shows on VHS tapes to mail him so he knew he was in my thoughts.

When you have a loved one in the military and they are deployed it’s life consuming. It’s in your thoughts minute-to-minute. You have nightmares, you have intimate dreams, you talk and talk  and talk about them until people stop coming around. Then you act like you’re fine, give the semblance of normalcy, but you cry at night and when they call, you breakdown.  Hearing their voice creates a physical response. My body would shake.

Their return to your life is like a gift you never thought possible. I tricked myself into thinking him being away was normal; this was how it was going to be forever. When he was standing, in front of me, grinning, I never thought I could be so happy.

My husband now, was a submariner in the Navy when we met. We dated long distance and through his underways and when I’d see him at the airport it was that same euphoric happiness. It was the I-never-believed-this-was-going-to-happen relief. 

The military has a way of putting that finality in your thoughts. The depressing, consuming thought that This.Could.Be.The.Last.Time. It’s heart-wrenching. It’s nerve-wracking. It’s life-altering. When they return. When you see their face. When you can hug them, kiss them, smell them again. There is no greater bliss.

Military Spouse

I am a military spouse two times over. I have dealt with not seeing a loved one for long periods of time. I have felt my heart race while standing in a crowd of hundreds, eagerly awaiting the bus to unload or the plane to arrive. I have wept with gratitude for the return of my loved one. I have written thousands of letters and emails to those missing from my life. I know what it means to be a military spouse but I also know what it means to be me.

It does take a special breed to be a military spouse. That is absolute truth. It is long months with no contact and never knowing. You spend holidays alone and intimacy is forgotten. Their schedules are erratic at best. You learn really weird acronyms that hold no place in your interactions with people who aren’t connected to the military. While being a military spouse takes a lot from someone, it is not what defines me.

My spouse’s career is not the center of my life. Yes, it dictates a lot of what we can and cannot do and I am extremely proud of my husband and all the men and women who serve in the armed forces. However, I am a wife and my husband is in the military. I am my husband’s direct support system. Being in the military comes with an entire set of rules; it comes with a code of conduct. In my first marriage, I learned a lot of useless things that does not translate to non-military life. For instance, I learned my actions in public directly reflect my husband. That means if I act a fool in public and people can figure out who my husband is, he could get in trouble. I learned that while my husband is in uniform I walk on his left side and we link arms instead of hold hands. I learned that if your grandfather was a “high up” officer in the military that Marines will salute your car because of its military sticker. I was proud of these things I learned. It made me feel connected; it made me feel a part of the military. But, I never enlisted; I never signed my life away for an allotted number of years. This was not *MY* life these are just rules that I had to follow because of my husband’s life.

Being in the military is an honorable thing, you are a great asset to America and I will support you best that I can. When I was young during my first marriage (I was married at 18) I was very into my husband’s career. I used the term “married to the Corps” because I rarely saw him. The first year of our marriage I spent maybe 3 months with him. Due to the Stop Loss, he re-enlisted and didn’t deploy for long periods of time anymore just a month or two here and there several weeks in the field and duty. His schedule was irregular and as I grew into myself the Marine Corps became less and less important to me. As my husband and I grew apart I began to see the military for what it was in regards to marriage. It was a difficult life that challenges you in every way conceivable. 

Enlisting in the military is a choice, just as marriage is a choice. I have chosen to love and honor my husband, to stand by his side through thick and thin. I hold no such loyalties to the military. It doesn’t mean I am any less grateful or any less proud. It doesn’t mean I don’t support my husband, I don’t cry when he leaves or that I am “okay” with deployments. I am a woman who is very much in love and very proud of her spouse regardless of his career.

In December, my husband will be getting out of the Navy. While a part of me is hesitant of this decision because of the economy, I love my husband and will love him no matter what his profession. If I made enough to carry the bulk of the bacon, I would happily make him a stay at home dad. As a happy, loving wife I could not conceive of forcing my husband into a uniform. I would never want my husband to feel trapped in a job or a career simply because I wanted him to or because he feels it’s the only option. The downfalls of him getting out are we lose out on a pretty hefty “re-enlistment bonus,” we lose amazing medical care and we count our pennies. All of this is inconsequential to my husband’s happiness and how his happiness will infect me.

This time next year we may be living out of his mom’s house in Boston but at least my husband won’t be out to sea with no communication for 3 months and at least at the end of the day he can smile and know that his wife loves him and trusts him and will be by his side no matter what wicked things may come.

My Daily Routine

People have hinted at the fact that I am a raging optimist. Despite whatever big hurdles I have overcome I remain excited and happy. It is very rare to see me down for long. It's infectious and it's also why so many of my close friends come to me when they are down. I love my friends I will do anything for the people I hold close in my life. My infectious good mood (for the most part) is because I have a daily ritual of inspirations, joys and triumphs.

There are daily heroes in this world, people who should inspire you. My father is my foremost hero. Not only because he was a firefighter for 32 years but because he's my father, he raised me after my mom died, I don't know how he endured raising four girls after losing the love of his life. My littlest sister is another hero, she lost her mom at 7 and has somehow grown into being a responsible, strong woman. Tutu, my grandmother, is an amazing woman. Surviving in Hawaii through World War II, outliving her husband, raising 5 kids, fighting to get a job and at 90 after a hip replacement surgery struggling through the pain to walk again. My mother-in-law is the newest addition to my list of heroes and inspirations. She's back in school and with an outstanding career she managed to raise two marvelous kids after Tim's father died.

These people keep me going. They are who I think of or turn to when I need to get through a tough time. The greatest inspiration and person who I turn to most is my husband. He's in the Navy and I am in awe of his strength in being able to endure in the Navy. The first 6 months of our relationship was long distance. I met him in Hawaii when I went home for a wedding, he was stationed at Pearl Harbor, we only hung out for 3 days but we had an irrefutable connection. I was living in North Carolina and he spent his tax return on a plane ticket to visit me. For 3 of those 6 months he was deployed on a submarine and I would get an email once or twice a week if I were lucky and they were short. I emailed him once a day, twice sometimes. At one point when they surfaced and were able to check their emails he had 8 emails from me where some married men had none. I feel honored to be with a man who willingly serves his country. Our relationship is not based on whether or not he stays in the Navy, but I will support him any way he chooses to live his life. I am just proud of him.

There are stigmas associated with a military wife. I know them well. Barefoot and pregnant, jobless and dependent. But that has never been comfortable or appealing to me. I was married before for 5 years to a Marine. Being a young, married military couple, we knew other military couples our age with 2 or 3 kids. I was so focused on my education, I couldn't imagine having children yet. It is one of the factors that broke us up. I want children when I am ready. When my husband and I have spent quality time together first. In all honesty, I would love to be the breadwinner and my husband the be the stay at home parent. But my career is not going to afford me such a luxury. I am a workaholic. I am a mover and a shaker. Tim and I will make our own path and we will be fine and we will love every minute of it because we’re together, we've found each other and we'll survive.

Though I complain about frustrations, my weight, my career and annoyances, I am extremely grateful for my life. I finally have a job I'm comfortable at that has afforded me some great friends. I have some amazing friends and family. My dog is my life. I have food in my belly, a roof over my head and Netflix. Most importantly, I just married a man I am madly in love with and who I can be myself around. I live in a land of forests and water, mountains and beauty. There are many small things to rejoice over if you choose to focus on them.

My life has taken many twists and turns. From almost not graduating high school to graduating Magna Cum Laude from the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. From losing my mother at 13 to gaining a wonderful mother and sister at 27. From having a substance dependency to barely being able to stomach alcohol. I have been in an abusive relationship; I have had eating disorders; I have had psychological breakdowns. I have overcome them all and I hope I've turned out better. Reflecting on my past does not weaken me, but strengthens me, I know what I have endured and I know what I can endure.

United We Stand Divided We Fall

America is a country divided, grown too big for it's britches. What once was a horrific event that bonded us as a nation is, 10 years later, a dividing rod. People dismissing the event as a conspiracy, dismissing the event all together, denying the lives lost any compensation.

It sickens me that we were all once so close and now we all can't even agree on the Pledge of Allegiance. That was the best part of my day as a kid. I would still be groggy, rubbing sleep from my eyes when we'd get to stand up, get the blood flowing and with our hands over our hearts, heads held high, eyes zeroed in on the American flag we would announce:

I pledge allegiance

To the flag

Of the United States of America

And to the Republic

For which it stands

One nation

Under God

Indivisible

With Liberty and justice for all.

I don't believe in God, sorry I was raised Catholic and rebelled. But I honestly don't take offense to the Pledge of Allegiance. You know why? Because it's history. I love history. I loved being a kid and being a part of something and I’m sad my kids won't have that connection. It would appear no American has that connection anymore. We are divided by the extremists and the crackpots, the devout and the anarchists, the elitists and the military. Our nation is a mess, tearing itself apart. We are divisible.

There is no unifying factor anymore. There is no one event, symbol or thought that will make people who recognize themselves as American stand up and take notice. A lot of people living in this country won't even recognize themselves as American. I doubt they'd stand up for the Anthem at a sports event and I'm doubtful children today even know the words or have any unifying connection to their country.

It's some weird Christianity effect. When the Christians were cornered by the Romans they would either deny their faith and live or stand up for their faith and die. I know a lot of people who travel to other countries and say they are Canadian instead of American to avoid the rolling eyes of other people.

How sad is that?

How sad is it to say you support our troops but want them home? That's an oxymoron. If you supported our troops you would support their endeavors. They are doing a job. A job they have to believe is good or else lose all hope. By demolishing what they are doing you are pulling the carpet out from under them. I support our troops, our police and our firefighters. I have been connected to various loved ones involved in all those veins of service.

I still don't understand why those who bang their drums and scream from the rooftops all that is wrong with this country won't move to another country. Armenia forces you into the military for 2 years if you're a male between 18-27 years old. Austria also makes it mandatory for males between 18-35 to serve in the military for a minimum of 6 months. Conscientious Objectors are not excused and must join the civilian service for 9 months minimum. Belarus requires men between the ages of 18-27 to serve for 18 months if they don't have higher education and 12 months if they do. Bermuda maintains it's local forces with a lottery of men between 18-32 who serve for 4 years. In beautiful Brazil you're required to serve 2 years of military service once you're a male who reaches the age of 18, granted there are a lot of exceptions to this rule. Columbia requires if you're a man between 18-24 that you serve 18 months, but you can also volunteer. In The Republic of Cyprus men aged 18-50 that are Greek Cypriot, Armenians, Latins and Maronites serve their country for 2 years and are forever considered reservists after their service. Conscientious Objectors can serve 33 months of unarmed army service or 38 months of community work. Denmark requires all able men usually between the ages 18-27 to serve for 4 months or longer though there are restrictions to this as well and men deemed fit can be called to service up until their 50^th birthday. Egypt requires men between 18-30 to serve in their military for anywhere from 14 to 36 months. If you go to college you can postpone your service until after but if you wait until you are 30 it's to late and you have to pay a fine. The only exempt are the only males in a family, males supporting their parents or males with dual citizenship. Greece has mandatory military service for 9 months for men, Conscientious Objectors serve for 42 months in civilian service. Iran requires men once they reach 16 to serve a minimum of 16 months depending on their location in the country. Israel requires both men and women to serve. All Israel citizens at the age of 18 must serve - men for 3 years, women for 2 years. South Korea is also mandatory military at the age of 18 for males for 21 months Conscientious Objectors are imprisoned. Mexico now requires all males reaching the age of 18 to sign up for the military for one year, though the position in the military is done by lottery. Norway requires men between 18.5 and 44 to serve 19 months. Russia has a mandatory 12 months of service between 18-27 on a drafted basis but there are loopholes to getting out. In Singapore men 18-21 are required to serve for 24 months. Switzerland makes men do a series of military training and exercises in the military totaling 260 days for privates. Conscientious Objectors serve 390 days of volunteer work. In Turkey males between the ages of 20-41 serve 15 months for privates, 12 months for reserve officers and 6 months for short term privates. Conscientious Objection is illegal in Turkey. The Ukraine allow males to either serve in reserve officer training for 2 years or regular military service for one year.

So before you go bashing our country and our military know that our military service is voluntary and you should be happy you live in a country that allows the freedoms you so love to take for granted.

When the towers came down everyone in America should have taken notice. To see people jumping to their deaths to escape a worse fate. To see people covered in the ash of what was a part of the iconic skyline of New York City. To see the families destroyed, the lives lost, the city in tears should have pulled some heart string in every American. The fact that 10 years later, people want to discuss the lies, conspiracies and conditions surrounding the attacks is heartbreaking. We are a nation that does not stand as one, that cannot grieve together a loss. United We Stand. Divided We Fall.