Sometimes I guess you just don't realize how much things affect kids, especially when they are really young. My son is 14 months old and in his little life, daddy has had to be gone multiple times due to being a soldier.
The first time I realized he really noticed was when he was about six months old. Daddy was gone for about a month to assist with a training rotation. As I picked my son up out of his crib one day, he noticed a picture of daddy on the wall and started pointing at it and saying 'dada', 'dada'.
He's been gone for shorter periods of time since then, but earlier this week because of an issue with another soldier my husband was put on a mission last minute. He came home and told us he was leaving the next day for about three weeks. As my husband was working on packing, it was like our son was trying to 'help' by unpacking what was already packed.
The heartbreaking part for me came the next morning. Since my husband had to leave so early, our son was still sleeping. He went in and told him he would see him soon and he loved him. A few hours later as I knew their take off time was approaching, I started listening for aircraft since I knew they would have to fly our direction to head to their destination. When I started to hear them, I grabbed our son and ran to the back door to keep an eye out. As the aircraft started to come into view, we stepped on the to the back deck so I could point them out. It only took my son a second to get his eye on the aircraft and start pointing and yelling daddy. I told him to tell daddy bye bye and as I was watching him wave and say bye bye daddy, the big reality of everything sunk in - based on other training he has scheduled and a pending deployment we would be saying bye bye daddy so many more times in the next year or so. Each time, he is going to become more and more aware of what that means - although based on what he did after the aircraft were out of sight and we went back inside - he has an understanding now. I sat him down and for more than 15 minutes he sat right there at the back door pointing towards the direction that daddy had gone saying bye bye daddy.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Friday, November 9, 2012
A little laugh...
This is probably going to be more comical for those who know me, but I thought it might at least bring a laugh to someone.
Earlier this week, shortly after my son laid down for his nap, I went in to take a shower. All of a sudden I started hearing what sounded like a banging noise, almost like someone was trying to break in our house. Given that there have been a few day time break ins in the area, I wasn't going to take any chances. I jumped out of the shower and grabbed my robe, my husband's AR-15 and some ammo. By this point in time adrenaline is running and thoughts aren't exactly the most clear.
As I'm slowly creeping into the living room, I realize that the noises I were hearing weren't the sound of someone breaking in, but it was the artillery being shot from post. Since we live a ways out, we don't normally hear it, so it wasn't something I really thought about when I first heard the noise.
I headed back to the bedroom, cleared the weapon and got back in the shower. I was thinking though... you know that would be a crappy way to go - the last thing you see is a pregnant woman in a robe with an AR.
Earlier this week, shortly after my son laid down for his nap, I went in to take a shower. All of a sudden I started hearing what sounded like a banging noise, almost like someone was trying to break in our house. Given that there have been a few day time break ins in the area, I wasn't going to take any chances. I jumped out of the shower and grabbed my robe, my husband's AR-15 and some ammo. By this point in time adrenaline is running and thoughts aren't exactly the most clear.
As I'm slowly creeping into the living room, I realize that the noises I were hearing weren't the sound of someone breaking in, but it was the artillery being shot from post. Since we live a ways out, we don't normally hear it, so it wasn't something I really thought about when I first heard the noise.
I headed back to the bedroom, cleared the weapon and got back in the shower. I was thinking though... you know that would be a crappy way to go - the last thing you see is a pregnant woman in a robe with an AR.
Monday, November 5, 2012
God works in mysterious ways
There are some days that just remind you of how true the phrase 'God works in mysterious ways' really is. Today is the three year anniversary of the shooting at Fort Hood.
Shortly after hearing about the shooting, my first thought went to a soldier of mine who was in Afghanistan. His dad was a senior ranking officer at Fort Hood at the time and did most of the coordinating for events such as where the shooting had taken place. At the time, no information had been released as far as names of casualties or the specifics as far as what had taken place. I tried contacting his family to confirm everything was okay and see if there was anything they needed from me as far as getting in touch with their soldier (at the time I had just shifted from downrange to the Rear D).
It took over a day to finally reach one of the family members that told me that their dad was safe. That he hadn't been there when the shooting happened, but had been a first responder. There was only one reason he hadn't been there... the soldier forward who always waited until he knew his dad would be off work to call him, hadn't waited that late that day. There wasn't any particular reason he didn't something off schedule that day, just thought he would give his dad a call.
That call made all the difference. Since he was on the phone with his son, he had been a few minutes late getting to the building. His dad then became a first responder trying to help those who were wounded.
In the weeks that followed, names were released and more information was posted about this individual who had turned a gun on those in the same uniform he wore. No amount of explanation can ever make me understand that thought process - but I continue to remember those lost that day and the reminder that God has a plan that we may not always understand.
Shortly after hearing about the shooting, my first thought went to a soldier of mine who was in Afghanistan. His dad was a senior ranking officer at Fort Hood at the time and did most of the coordinating for events such as where the shooting had taken place. At the time, no information had been released as far as names of casualties or the specifics as far as what had taken place. I tried contacting his family to confirm everything was okay and see if there was anything they needed from me as far as getting in touch with their soldier (at the time I had just shifted from downrange to the Rear D).
It took over a day to finally reach one of the family members that told me that their dad was safe. That he hadn't been there when the shooting happened, but had been a first responder. There was only one reason he hadn't been there... the soldier forward who always waited until he knew his dad would be off work to call him, hadn't waited that late that day. There wasn't any particular reason he didn't something off schedule that day, just thought he would give his dad a call.
That call made all the difference. Since he was on the phone with his son, he had been a few minutes late getting to the building. His dad then became a first responder trying to help those who were wounded.
In the weeks that followed, names were released and more information was posted about this individual who had turned a gun on those in the same uniform he wore. No amount of explanation can ever make me understand that thought process - but I continue to remember those lost that day and the reminder that God has a plan that we may not always understand.
Friday, November 2, 2012
The not always visible
A little bit ago I saw a post by a fellow female veteran that really bothered me. She is now a military spouse and happens to be pregnant. For those who aren't familiar - most commissaries have early bird shopping available for the disabled. Given that she is a disabled veteran, she took advantage of that time, but it wasn't a good experience. She received dirty looks like she didn't belong there at that time.
I happen to belong to the same group she does... someone who is a disabled veteran because of a back injury that is a direct result of service to our country. For me, this is already a sore subject because I feel like the 'invisible wounds' aren't acknowledged as much as they should be. Yes, I still have all my limbs, no, I don't have any shrapnel scars - but I'm constantly in pain because of a back injury that can't be fixed. Most days if you saw me walking down the street, you wouldn't look at me and think I was a veteran and you wouldn't think I was disabled. I'm proud like that... I walk with my head held high because I'm proud of my time in service. I'm proud to be part of less then the 1% that have worn the uniform. I'm proud of my tours to Iraq, and knowing that even though when people hear I was a soldier and happen to be a female - that I didn't fall in the typical role they tend to associate female soldiers with.
I guess my point is that you can't always judge a book by their cover. Don't look at me and assume because I'm a spouse that I really don't understand the military - I wore the uniform and happened to have been the same MOS as my husband, I understand more about the military than you will ever know. Don't look at me and assume that because I'm a female veteran that I spent all my military time in an office - I manned a machine gun in the back of a Blackhawk helicopter my first deployment and I was a MEDEVAC crew chief my second deployment. Don't look at me and assume that just because I don't look like there is anything wrong with me that there isn't - I suffer daily from constant back pain, post concussive disorder (TBI), and PTSD.
Bottom line - if you don't know, don't assume...
I happen to belong to the same group she does... someone who is a disabled veteran because of a back injury that is a direct result of service to our country. For me, this is already a sore subject because I feel like the 'invisible wounds' aren't acknowledged as much as they should be. Yes, I still have all my limbs, no, I don't have any shrapnel scars - but I'm constantly in pain because of a back injury that can't be fixed. Most days if you saw me walking down the street, you wouldn't look at me and think I was a veteran and you wouldn't think I was disabled. I'm proud like that... I walk with my head held high because I'm proud of my time in service. I'm proud to be part of less then the 1% that have worn the uniform. I'm proud of my tours to Iraq, and knowing that even though when people hear I was a soldier and happen to be a female - that I didn't fall in the typical role they tend to associate female soldiers with.
I guess my point is that you can't always judge a book by their cover. Don't look at me and assume because I'm a spouse that I really don't understand the military - I wore the uniform and happened to have been the same MOS as my husband, I understand more about the military than you will ever know. Don't look at me and assume that because I'm a female veteran that I spent all my military time in an office - I manned a machine gun in the back of a Blackhawk helicopter my first deployment and I was a MEDEVAC crew chief my second deployment. Don't look at me and assume that just because I don't look like there is anything wrong with me that there isn't - I suffer daily from constant back pain, post concussive disorder (TBI), and PTSD.
Bottom line - if you don't know, don't assume...
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