A couple months ago, I was asked by another spouse if I thought I was better than other spouses because I was prior service. This question caught me off guard and has really bothered me, especially since the person that asked it was someone I thought knew me at least somewhat well.
My first initial response was no, I don't. As I thought about it more over the last months and this question keeps popping back up in my mind, I was trying to think of how I would have given that perception.
I don't see myself as better than a spouse that hasn't served, it's simply different. I've been not only on the side of having my soldier deployed through holidays and birthdays, gone TDY more than I can count, but I've been deployed, I've gone TDY more times than I can remember - it's simply a different experience.
Last deployment, after I was sent back I struggled with integrating with the other spouses. I just didn't know how I fit in. They had already had four months to get to know each other, to build their little support systems and now here I was… I had been married to my soldier for a couple of years, but had never really seen myself as a spouse per say. When I did finally get to know some of the spouses, I was awkward. I felt like a spouse, I had gotten to know them and we had become friends, but I was still awkward.
I struggled with what could be said and what couldn't, what should and shouldn't be. I didn't want to share more than what the soldier wanted shared. I've struggled with that thought for a long time. I couldn't ever figure out why I've had trouble sharing past military experiences with my family until someone hit the nail on the head - although they knew I was a soldier, I needed them to still continue to see me as their daughter, their sister, their spouse. Some of the stories and experiences, I felt would alter that view. This is the same reason why my husband and I don't share everything about missions we have been on. It allows to still keep some things separate. We both know the other is available whenever we need an ear, but it's all on our own time. This is much the same for many service members on why their full story may not be shared. It's not a matter of not wanting to share that part of their life, it's simply a matter of still needing to be seen as their role outside the military too. With that being said, I didn't want to ruin that role for my fellow soldiers. I had served with them forward and now I was waiting with their spouses in the rear… it was awkward. I finally learned it was best to say nothing.
After I left the Army, I found myself full on in the role of a spouse… once again I was awkward. Then from time to time, I would get an email from one of my former soldiers who was asking me for help on locating a regulation or what my experience was with certain situations at the time of separation. Slowly those emails started dwindling, as many of them have separated the service now.
Then new emails started, new texts… this time from spouses. They were trying to understand something and it just didn't make sense. Or their soldier was TDY and they needed to figure out paperwork. Then, the most recent was the heartbreaking moment of explaining the notification process to the mother of a soldier with the unit and a fellow spouse. One was completely unfamiliar with the process, the other had received some incorrect information. In situations like this, they are never my experiences… I got straight to the regulations. I ensure that the information that I'm forwarding on is the correct info. I give the references.
You see - I don't think I'm better in any way, shape or form… I've simply had a different path previously to the path I'm currently on. A path that helps me understand things in a different way or understand the random gibberish that seems to be the way that the Army feels is necessary to write their regulations. I have walked in my husband's boots, as we have both been a part of an air assault unit and a medevac unit. I have never walked on the lands of Afghanistan like he has, but I have in Iraq. I know the look in his face when he comes back from a bad mission, which is why when he comes off duty and it's been a rough time, sometimes our Skype time has become a victim of Internet connection issues. My husband have cleaned blood out of the back of the aircraft together and manned machine guns on the opposite side of the aircraft.
I live in an in-between world, where I find myself constantly in a state of being awkward. A state where I miss being a soldier and even the realities of it that are sometimes painful, but where I also enjoy being able to stay home with my boys and supporting my husband. A world where I'm so incredibly proud of my husband for being selected to flight school, but also where I look back and wonder what if I had ever been able to submit my packet, which had been my dream.
In most ways though, I'm no different from any other spouse who has changed their schools three times before they complete their degree. Who has given up a career to follow the man they love. Who takes a job at their current location that they are way beyond qualified for, but there isn't anything available in your field. Who stays home and raises the kids. Who picks up a side job or starts their own business, so they have something they can move with them the next time orders come down.
So, no I don't think I'm better than my fellow spouses. My experiences from my 'past life' just carry forward into the here and now differently than what a lot of other's 'past life' does.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Saturday, December 21, 2013
The struggles within
I've debated on writing on this topic for awhile because of it being the happy holiday season, but then I reminded myself that this time of year is the hardest for those who suffer from depression. I'm no different. For the last number of years, I've had on and off issues with my PTSD. Depression is one of many 'side effects'.
Most that see me out and about see a smile on my face. I did the same thing when I was in the Army and my back was killing me, I did the best to keep a smile on my face and continue on. This masking is no different for anyone who suffers from invisible wounds. On a day to day basis, they attempt to function and act like everything is normal.
Then when they are away from others, the truth comes out, sometimes the tears, sometimes the hopeless thoughts or the feelings of being useless, the thoughts that something bad is going to happen or that yours or the life of a loved ones will be cut short. The list goes on and on.
A little over a month ago, I finally came to terms with the fact that things were getting beyond my level of being able to cope with it myself. I wasn't sleeping at night (which I'm still not doing great at since I'm awake at 4am writing this), I couldn't get some of the negative thoughts out of my head, even though my husband was most likely going to be coming home from deployment soon, all I could think about was the struggles that come with reintegration. I was angry all the time, everything made me angry and to an extent, it still does. I have to really talk myself through calming down.
When I had enough, I picked up the phone and called the VA. This wasn't an easy call to make. It was one that I had picked up the phone to make at least half a dozen times, but I finally did. Not everyone makes that call. It's not a matter of strength and weakness either, because some of those that have the strongest exteriors are the ones that are fighting the most within, while others are able to wear their fight on the outside.
I have learned that there are way too many taboo subjects, but the subjects that no one wants to talk about are the subjects that need the most openness. I often times share my stories and struggles because someone out there might be reading this and might find that they aren't alone. Sometimes simply finding out you aren't alone, can make a difference.
I started on meds about three weeks ago, the day after Thanksgiving. I'm still weeks from being up to the dosage that's supposed to be effective for treatment, but it's a matter of taking things a day at a time. I've come to terms with yet another diagnosis that I thought I was stronger than, I've come to terms with the fact that it's okay to ask for help and I've come to terms with the fact that it doesn't have to be that dirty little secret.
As we head into these last few days before Christmas, I ask you to pray for those who may be struggling the most at this time of year, those who may be alone, those who need the blessings of Christmas more than anyone will know.
Most that see me out and about see a smile on my face. I did the same thing when I was in the Army and my back was killing me, I did the best to keep a smile on my face and continue on. This masking is no different for anyone who suffers from invisible wounds. On a day to day basis, they attempt to function and act like everything is normal.
Then when they are away from others, the truth comes out, sometimes the tears, sometimes the hopeless thoughts or the feelings of being useless, the thoughts that something bad is going to happen or that yours or the life of a loved ones will be cut short. The list goes on and on.
A little over a month ago, I finally came to terms with the fact that things were getting beyond my level of being able to cope with it myself. I wasn't sleeping at night (which I'm still not doing great at since I'm awake at 4am writing this), I couldn't get some of the negative thoughts out of my head, even though my husband was most likely going to be coming home from deployment soon, all I could think about was the struggles that come with reintegration. I was angry all the time, everything made me angry and to an extent, it still does. I have to really talk myself through calming down.
When I had enough, I picked up the phone and called the VA. This wasn't an easy call to make. It was one that I had picked up the phone to make at least half a dozen times, but I finally did. Not everyone makes that call. It's not a matter of strength and weakness either, because some of those that have the strongest exteriors are the ones that are fighting the most within, while others are able to wear their fight on the outside.
I have learned that there are way too many taboo subjects, but the subjects that no one wants to talk about are the subjects that need the most openness. I often times share my stories and struggles because someone out there might be reading this and might find that they aren't alone. Sometimes simply finding out you aren't alone, can make a difference.
I started on meds about three weeks ago, the day after Thanksgiving. I'm still weeks from being up to the dosage that's supposed to be effective for treatment, but it's a matter of taking things a day at a time. I've come to terms with yet another diagnosis that I thought I was stronger than, I've come to terms with the fact that it's okay to ask for help and I've come to terms with the fact that it doesn't have to be that dirty little secret.
As we head into these last few days before Christmas, I ask you to pray for those who may be struggling the most at this time of year, those who may be alone, those who need the blessings of Christmas more than anyone will know.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Our world
In the last few days, our military community and even smaller, within our aviation family has suffered a great loss. When the news broke of a downed helicopter in Afghanistan… it was a quick blip and the it jumped to the next news story. In that quick blip, our aviation world stopped. Families anxiously sat at home waiting to see if they would hear that dreaded knock and they watched their phones to see if that weird unfamiliar number would pop up.
The rest of the world continued turning. Those that were around these families have told them to go do something or to try to keep busy. Even sometimes those closest to us don't understand. They haven't been in our shoes, they haven't waited.
In the military, those service members aren't just co-workers, they become a part of each other's lives. They are there with each other in the worst conditions and help each other get through the hardest times. When they are home for the holidays, they open up their home to those other service members who may not be going home. They support each other and have each other's backs.
On the other side of the world, their spouses do the same thing. They become close friends in a much shorter time than you would see in the civilian world. They share their most intimate moments of weakness and reach out just when it is needed. They help make sense of the often less than understandable military and open their arms when their world is shattered.
Most are oblivious to the world that takes place within a military community. It's a world that is often misunderstood, a sacrifice that is often forgotten, a weight that sometimes seems unmanageable to carry, but in the military this is the daily life. What makes the difference is our soldiers and those they serve beside, on the home front it is the families and those that wait with them.
As our world has faced a horrible tragedy, we will mourn the loss of these precious lives, we will support those whose world were shattered and we will always remember that although this world can be difficult, we are not in it alone.
The rest of the world continued turning. Those that were around these families have told them to go do something or to try to keep busy. Even sometimes those closest to us don't understand. They haven't been in our shoes, they haven't waited.
In the military, those service members aren't just co-workers, they become a part of each other's lives. They are there with each other in the worst conditions and help each other get through the hardest times. When they are home for the holidays, they open up their home to those other service members who may not be going home. They support each other and have each other's backs.
On the other side of the world, their spouses do the same thing. They become close friends in a much shorter time than you would see in the civilian world. They share their most intimate moments of weakness and reach out just when it is needed. They help make sense of the often less than understandable military and open their arms when their world is shattered.
Most are oblivious to the world that takes place within a military community. It's a world that is often misunderstood, a sacrifice that is often forgotten, a weight that sometimes seems unmanageable to carry, but in the military this is the daily life. What makes the difference is our soldiers and those they serve beside, on the home front it is the families and those that wait with them.
As our world has faced a horrible tragedy, we will mourn the loss of these precious lives, we will support those whose world were shattered and we will always remember that although this world can be difficult, we are not in it alone.
Monday, December 16, 2013
The decisions we make
Decisions… it's something we all deal with throughout the different seasons in life. There are the decisions to take a job that would uproot your family or the decision on which college to attend, sometimes decisions that are as trivial as what will be for dinner. Over the past nine years, I have found myself faced with some of the most difficult decisions I have made. Those nine years encompass the military years, not only for myself as a soldier, but also to those as an Army wife.
I think the biggest decision I ever made that has most greatly affected my life and it's course was joining the Army. If it hadn't been for that I probably wouldn't met my husband, I most likely would still be wearing glasses, I probably wouldn't deal with the pain and other frequent struggles, I probably never would have moved away from where I was originally from… There's a lot of 'probably nevers'.
Since that big decision, there's been a lot of others along the way. The decision to re-enlist. The decision to marry a fellow soldier. The decision to accept that the pain was getting worse and acknowledge that the Army deemed I no longer met medical standards to continue wearing the uniform.
The decision to start a family. The decision to try to be stationed close to family. The decision to be a start a home mom. The decision for my husband to re-enlist, and re-enlist again. The decision for him to pursue becoming a warrant officer. The decision for him to accept his selection.
I could go on and on. Some of these decisions were ones that were made that affected myself and myself alone, others were ones that we have made as a family. The most recent major decision we made was for my husband to accept his selection to flight school. This seemingly simple decision had so many short and long term affects on our family.
First, it meant a re-enlist that would take him to 14 years in the Army. We had both decided years ago that if that magic number of ten years in the Army was hit by either of us, that we would stay in until retirement at 20 years. So this single decision in itself committed our family to another 12 years of Army life.
Second, it meant a move… a move away from the first home we purchased, the home we brought both of our boys home to after they were born, a home that's close to my side of the family. In the long term, the move now is a chance for our kids to be closer to my husband's side of the family for a little while, for our boys and our nephews to see each other more often.
Third, it meant a form of stability, in a sense. Although, there will be moves along the way, new houses to decorate, new schools for the kids, probably more deployments, it also means that we are stable in the fact that the boys will never go without health care, they will always have a roof over their head, there will always be food on the table.
When we had sat down and looked over all the pros and cons, we decided for our family, although we know there will be some challenges ahead based on this decision, there would also be challenges if we decided to go the other route and him separate from the Army.
We have learned along the way that decisions aren't always easy. Even something so joyous as becoming a parent can be met with challenges we never imagined we would face (and I'm saying this as my oldest is only two, who knows what is yet to come). We do our best to look from the outside in and see what will be the most positive outcome for the future and we pray that God will light the path we are meant to take.
We are all humans and with that there is choices - the choices we make will lead us one direction over another. Sometimes the path we chose, wasn't the right one and we find ourselves back tracking to get to the last fork in the road. Other times, we are able to look forward to the next fork because our decision was the right one for us. Then there are going to be other times that no decision is right or wrong, it's simply a matter of choosing which path we are going to take.
Every decision becomes a part of who we are.
I think the biggest decision I ever made that has most greatly affected my life and it's course was joining the Army. If it hadn't been for that I probably wouldn't met my husband, I most likely would still be wearing glasses, I probably wouldn't deal with the pain and other frequent struggles, I probably never would have moved away from where I was originally from… There's a lot of 'probably nevers'.
Since that big decision, there's been a lot of others along the way. The decision to re-enlist. The decision to marry a fellow soldier. The decision to accept that the pain was getting worse and acknowledge that the Army deemed I no longer met medical standards to continue wearing the uniform.
The decision to start a family. The decision to try to be stationed close to family. The decision to be a start a home mom. The decision for my husband to re-enlist, and re-enlist again. The decision for him to pursue becoming a warrant officer. The decision for him to accept his selection.
I could go on and on. Some of these decisions were ones that were made that affected myself and myself alone, others were ones that we have made as a family. The most recent major decision we made was for my husband to accept his selection to flight school. This seemingly simple decision had so many short and long term affects on our family.
First, it meant a re-enlist that would take him to 14 years in the Army. We had both decided years ago that if that magic number of ten years in the Army was hit by either of us, that we would stay in until retirement at 20 years. So this single decision in itself committed our family to another 12 years of Army life.
Second, it meant a move… a move away from the first home we purchased, the home we brought both of our boys home to after they were born, a home that's close to my side of the family. In the long term, the move now is a chance for our kids to be closer to my husband's side of the family for a little while, for our boys and our nephews to see each other more often.
Third, it meant a form of stability, in a sense. Although, there will be moves along the way, new houses to decorate, new schools for the kids, probably more deployments, it also means that we are stable in the fact that the boys will never go without health care, they will always have a roof over their head, there will always be food on the table.
When we had sat down and looked over all the pros and cons, we decided for our family, although we know there will be some challenges ahead based on this decision, there would also be challenges if we decided to go the other route and him separate from the Army.
We have learned along the way that decisions aren't always easy. Even something so joyous as becoming a parent can be met with challenges we never imagined we would face (and I'm saying this as my oldest is only two, who knows what is yet to come). We do our best to look from the outside in and see what will be the most positive outcome for the future and we pray that God will light the path we are meant to take.
We are all humans and with that there is choices - the choices we make will lead us one direction over another. Sometimes the path we chose, wasn't the right one and we find ourselves back tracking to get to the last fork in the road. Other times, we are able to look forward to the next fork because our decision was the right one for us. Then there are going to be other times that no decision is right or wrong, it's simply a matter of choosing which path we are going to take.
Every decision becomes a part of who we are.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
The early arrival
I think it's easy to be frustrated when a soldier makes it home before yours does. My husband just arrived home from deployment number three a little over halfway through. There hasn't been a deployment yet though that at least some of the soldiers haven't come back at off times from the rest of the unit.
First deployment, even though we had been extended to 15 months and in the heart of the surge in Iraq, there were still soldiers that returned early for one reason or another - some had been hurt, some had become pregnant and some had family members that had significant health issues to include one of our spouses being diagnosed with cancer.
Second deployment was a little different. I was one of those that returned early - about four months in to a year long deployment. My back just wasn't holding up and with our change of orders from Iraq to Afghanistan, the expectations of our unit were going to change drastically. I wasn't the first one to return home early from our unit and I ended up becoming one of quite a few that would return home early over the course of the next eight months.
Now on to number three. My husband was on the first flight out, which to most was transparent besides a picture posted of the four of us from the day he left. I still went to almost every deployment ceremony to take pictures for one family or another. I watched as families trickled out over the course of a month after my husband had left. Then starting a couple of months ago with a memo, I started seeing faces reappear here that had left long after my husband had. They reappeared before we knew he was going to be coming home early.
With each situation, I saw the unfortunate bitterness. The thing I think is very interesting about that bitterness, it's only at home. Even when a soldier returned because of being pregnant, for the most part, little was said, we were all too busy to really care too much about it.
When I was getting ready to head back, I struggled with leaving my soldiers, but they all supported me. I was sent off with hugs and well wishes, genuine well wishes. Eight months later when the soldiers were getting ready to arrive home, I braced myself for cold shoulders and the sore feelings towards me… but there wasn't one. As those soldiers walked in the hangar to turn in their weapons and I started shaking hands to welcome them home, those hand shakes were quickly shifted to hugs as the soldiers pulled me in for them.
This deployment had been much different for us though… this is the first time I haven't been on the soldier side of things. As my husband shared that it was that time, the soldiers he had worked most closely with sent him off with words of well wishes, with hugs and a genuine happiness that he was returning home. He had that anticipation and when he arrived home, he was happy to be home. The first day he was home, we spent the day making goodies to send in care packages to some of the single soldiers he was deployed with. They knew and understood why he was coming home and they supported him.
On the other side of it, I have braced myself for weeks, every since we knew for sure he was coming home early. I didn't really tell anyone because I anticipated there would be negative feelings, whether they were shown or not. I saw how last deployment changed many of the relationships, even those that were close during the other parts of the deployment, when one of the soldiers arrived home early. All of a sudden, you aren't sharing in something together, you feel like the other person is no longer your ally. It's like they have morphed into this different person.
The fact is - that person doesn't change just because their soldier is home. I never saw one person whose soldier came home early turn their back on the spouses they had been friends with. They still were available when there was a bad day or when there as an emergency and the kids needed to be watched.
Even though I was a soldier last deployment, I was still a spouse with a deployed soldier. I didn't understand the thought process of this perceived morphing then and I guess I still don't know. Over the last months as other soldiers have come home, I was honestly happy for those families… some of which I didn't even know at all. As military families, we know how much our soldiers miss out on, so I celebrate when a soldier doesn't have to miss something. No different than now that my husband is home, doesn't make my heart break any less for our little military family who will have an empty chair at their table for Christmas or for upcoming birthdays, etc.
Recently, I have deleted myself off a lot of the local military spouse groups. I found that I didn't understand a lot of the needless drama that takes place. The new form of bullying that has arisen. As soldiers, although we didn't always get along, we did what we needed to in order to support our fellow soldiers. That didn't mean things were always rainbows and kittens, but you do what you have to in order to make the mission happen. I guess that's why I'm at such a loss on why this doesn't carry over to the other side of the family. Maybe that's why I've stuck to just a few close people and kept my distance otherwise.
Bottom line - this life, this military life we live in has enough challenges, why do we add more to it?
First deployment, even though we had been extended to 15 months and in the heart of the surge in Iraq, there were still soldiers that returned early for one reason or another - some had been hurt, some had become pregnant and some had family members that had significant health issues to include one of our spouses being diagnosed with cancer.
Second deployment was a little different. I was one of those that returned early - about four months in to a year long deployment. My back just wasn't holding up and with our change of orders from Iraq to Afghanistan, the expectations of our unit were going to change drastically. I wasn't the first one to return home early from our unit and I ended up becoming one of quite a few that would return home early over the course of the next eight months.
Now on to number three. My husband was on the first flight out, which to most was transparent besides a picture posted of the four of us from the day he left. I still went to almost every deployment ceremony to take pictures for one family or another. I watched as families trickled out over the course of a month after my husband had left. Then starting a couple of months ago with a memo, I started seeing faces reappear here that had left long after my husband had. They reappeared before we knew he was going to be coming home early.
With each situation, I saw the unfortunate bitterness. The thing I think is very interesting about that bitterness, it's only at home. Even when a soldier returned because of being pregnant, for the most part, little was said, we were all too busy to really care too much about it.
When I was getting ready to head back, I struggled with leaving my soldiers, but they all supported me. I was sent off with hugs and well wishes, genuine well wishes. Eight months later when the soldiers were getting ready to arrive home, I braced myself for cold shoulders and the sore feelings towards me… but there wasn't one. As those soldiers walked in the hangar to turn in their weapons and I started shaking hands to welcome them home, those hand shakes were quickly shifted to hugs as the soldiers pulled me in for them.
This deployment had been much different for us though… this is the first time I haven't been on the soldier side of things. As my husband shared that it was that time, the soldiers he had worked most closely with sent him off with words of well wishes, with hugs and a genuine happiness that he was returning home. He had that anticipation and when he arrived home, he was happy to be home. The first day he was home, we spent the day making goodies to send in care packages to some of the single soldiers he was deployed with. They knew and understood why he was coming home and they supported him.
On the other side of it, I have braced myself for weeks, every since we knew for sure he was coming home early. I didn't really tell anyone because I anticipated there would be negative feelings, whether they were shown or not. I saw how last deployment changed many of the relationships, even those that were close during the other parts of the deployment, when one of the soldiers arrived home early. All of a sudden, you aren't sharing in something together, you feel like the other person is no longer your ally. It's like they have morphed into this different person.
The fact is - that person doesn't change just because their soldier is home. I never saw one person whose soldier came home early turn their back on the spouses they had been friends with. They still were available when there was a bad day or when there as an emergency and the kids needed to be watched.
Even though I was a soldier last deployment, I was still a spouse with a deployed soldier. I didn't understand the thought process of this perceived morphing then and I guess I still don't know. Over the last months as other soldiers have come home, I was honestly happy for those families… some of which I didn't even know at all. As military families, we know how much our soldiers miss out on, so I celebrate when a soldier doesn't have to miss something. No different than now that my husband is home, doesn't make my heart break any less for our little military family who will have an empty chair at their table for Christmas or for upcoming birthdays, etc.
Recently, I have deleted myself off a lot of the local military spouse groups. I found that I didn't understand a lot of the needless drama that takes place. The new form of bullying that has arisen. As soldiers, although we didn't always get along, we did what we needed to in order to support our fellow soldiers. That didn't mean things were always rainbows and kittens, but you do what you have to in order to make the mission happen. I guess that's why I'm at such a loss on why this doesn't carry over to the other side of the family. Maybe that's why I've stuck to just a few close people and kept my distance otherwise.
Bottom line - this life, this military life we live in has enough challenges, why do we add more to it?
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
The real reintegration
It's easy to get wrapped in to the magic of a homecoming ceremony when you see all the pictures of that second first kiss. The embraces that have been waiting for months and at times for a year or longer. The children who are so small and tiny, holding a sign that simply states something that is so heartbreaking and so simple 'I've waited all my life to meet you…'
These are the moments that are posted and shared. The moments that when you are going through your first deployment with your spouse you count down to, you look forward to. It's the moments that come after that first night or that first few days, that you come to understand a little more after each deployment.
You learn that term reintegration means a lot more than a bunch of classes that the Army (and all other branches of service) require your service member to take. It means getting them settled back in to every day life. That could mean something as simple as the coffee being made a little less strong than something that could dissolve a spoon or staying on their side of the bed at night. Or it could go much further… It could be the nightmares that wake them up or the days it takes them to readjust to the new time zone that causes their patience to wear a little thin.
It's in reminding them to take the trash out or getting used to having a baby monitor on through the night. It's in the hyper vigilance that may take months to calm down or the way they constantly feel like they are missing something when they are walking out the door, because they've just spend the last number of months with a weapon constantly attached.
In recent weeks, when talking to other spouses about my husband coming home early from deployment, it was hard to explain how there was hesitation. Even when I returned from a deployment when I was a single soldier, things were off. It wasn't something I could put in to words, but it was just different. Deployments change a person, some for the good, some for the bad, some find their breaking points and others will see life completely differently than they ever did before. After all of that, they are sent back to their home, with their families, where life has continued to go on without their presence, where their child they left who couldn't even sit up by themselves is now walking and talking.
My point is this… This whole reintegration thing doesn't get easier, you just start seeing it differently. You understand that there are things you can do to prepare yourself for the worst and hope for the best. There are ways to make that honeymoon period last beyond that first couple days. You also learn that there are things you can help and things you can't, that being there to listen doesn't mean pushing them to talk and that it's okay if they aren't comfortable with being home with the kids alone right off the bat.
So when that moment comes and you see your soldier march in and that moment that has been building up for months comes… enjoy it, relish it. Then in the moments that come after that, as minutes turn to hours and hours turn to days - be patient - be patient with your soldier, be patient with your kids, but most of all be patient with yourself.
These are the moments that are posted and shared. The moments that when you are going through your first deployment with your spouse you count down to, you look forward to. It's the moments that come after that first night or that first few days, that you come to understand a little more after each deployment.
You learn that term reintegration means a lot more than a bunch of classes that the Army (and all other branches of service) require your service member to take. It means getting them settled back in to every day life. That could mean something as simple as the coffee being made a little less strong than something that could dissolve a spoon or staying on their side of the bed at night. Or it could go much further… It could be the nightmares that wake them up or the days it takes them to readjust to the new time zone that causes their patience to wear a little thin.
It's in reminding them to take the trash out or getting used to having a baby monitor on through the night. It's in the hyper vigilance that may take months to calm down or the way they constantly feel like they are missing something when they are walking out the door, because they've just spend the last number of months with a weapon constantly attached.
In recent weeks, when talking to other spouses about my husband coming home early from deployment, it was hard to explain how there was hesitation. Even when I returned from a deployment when I was a single soldier, things were off. It wasn't something I could put in to words, but it was just different. Deployments change a person, some for the good, some for the bad, some find their breaking points and others will see life completely differently than they ever did before. After all of that, they are sent back to their home, with their families, where life has continued to go on without their presence, where their child they left who couldn't even sit up by themselves is now walking and talking.
My point is this… This whole reintegration thing doesn't get easier, you just start seeing it differently. You understand that there are things you can do to prepare yourself for the worst and hope for the best. There are ways to make that honeymoon period last beyond that first couple days. You also learn that there are things you can help and things you can't, that being there to listen doesn't mean pushing them to talk and that it's okay if they aren't comfortable with being home with the kids alone right off the bat.
So when that moment comes and you see your soldier march in and that moment that has been building up for months comes… enjoy it, relish it. Then in the moments that come after that, as minutes turn to hours and hours turn to days - be patient - be patient with your soldier, be patient with your kids, but most of all be patient with yourself.
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