Memorial Day

The first deployment my ex-husband left for turned my world upside down.  I had been completely unprepared and not at all expecting for it to happen.  We had moved to FL just six months before.  My ex is a member of the Army Reserve.  Where we had previously lived he was very much a "weekend warrior" and his unit was not one that deployed.  He used to pack up his xbox games to take with him sometimes.  When we moved, he had been told that his unit would be mobilizing within the year, but that since he had just joined it and had not been through any of the preparation training, he was ineligible for deployment and would be staying behind.

The Army likes to change its mind.

I grew up outside of Washington D.C. And we moved back and lived there a few years after we got married. My ex did not wear his uniform much in public.  He didn't discuss his feelings about the military much.  Despite (or maybe because of) the fact we lived a stone's throw from our nations capital, the military presence, in the form of friends and neighbors just wasn't there.  People were a lot more free with their opinions on the military though... and just by wearing a uniform or putting a yellow ribbon magnet on your car, seemed to many to be an invitation to share their opinions.  So we just didn't discuss it much.

And then we moved to FL near several air force bases.

Two weeks before Christmas that year, my ex got orders to the middle east.  His orders were for 18 months of active duty.  He would hopefully be able to come home for some R&R part way through.  I was inconsolable.  I was terrified.  Mostly, I was furious.  I had been against my husband re-enlisting in the military.  I had never had to live the military wife life before.  I had no idea what to expect.  I went to a spousal readiness group and was informed of a vast array of support services, wives clubs, kids groups, and folks I could call in the middle of the night if I just needed to talk.  Halfway through the speech one of the organizers raised his hand and said "um I'm sorry to interrupt... you do realize these folks are Army NOT Air Force right?"  The speaker had just assumed we were all Air Force since most people in this area are.  She looked flustered.  I actually felt bad for her for a minute.  She apologized and said "oh I'm terribly sorry... um, well Army families are still able to make use of all the services on this base that are open to every member of the military."  But all the other offers of support?  Gone.  The closest Army base was in GA, we were not able to utilize support services that had been budgeted for the air force.

My ex deployed and we adapted.  I may not have been able to utilize any support from the base, but everyone around me had at least some offers of advice, some words of wisdom, and some understanding of what we were going through.  Unlike Northern VA, the military is prevalent here and when I would show up at a cub scout meeting and then instantly burst into tears, everyone understood why.  I didn't have to explain it, or debate politics, or justify my feelings.  I was held when I needed to be held, and when I would start to rage about the unfairness of it, there would be someone else to quietly but firmly tell me to hold my head up.  My kids needed me to do that. 

The hardest part was not knowing where my ex was.  A few times he was able to call me, and it was always in the dead of night, and usually only for a couple minutes and most of the time our calls would be cut off.  Sometimes the phone would ring and I would grab it and say "hello! hello??  Are you there... I can't heard you.. If you can hear me... please, please be safe.  I love you."  I still don't know where he was.  He was never allowed to tell me anything specific. 

One afternoon I looked out the window and saw a strange car in the driveway with two men in uniform sitting in it.  As I looked out the window I thought "how odd, I can hear the ocean... I've never been able to hear it inside the house before..." and then I realized it wasn't the ocean but the sound of blood rushing to my head and then the world was starting to spin.  I grabbed onto the desk and told myself that if they were here to tell me that my husband was dead I could not let my kids be the ones to answer the door.  So I shook myself and watched them get out of the car and walk up to my door.

They knocked and I told my kids it was people to talk to mommy and to please go up stairs and play.  I opened the door and they asked me my name.  And then said "we're members of your husband's unit and we're stopping by all of their homes to make sure everyone is ok, and to see if you need any assistance with anything while he's gone."  I stared at them and burst into tears and then asked them if they had any idea what they had just done to me. 

That was the moment my attitude towards the military changed.  That was the moment I finally realized what my ex had always tried to explain to me.  That was the moment I stopped being angry and feeling like I was enduring a huge injustice.  I had never signed up to be an army wife.  I had never wanted to put my life on hold, endure the terror and heartache, and pain of deployments.  I wasn't good at it, I hated it, and I could see no reason why I had to go through all that just because my husband considered himself a patriot.  I saw his actions as selfish and that he was forcing our children to yearn for him so he could go play soldier.

But then, two men in uniform came to my door.  And instead of informing me that I was a widow, they offered to mow my yard, or help with any household repairs.  And I realized that all over the country men were knocking on doors.  The women inside opened them as wives, and closed them as widows.  So on memorial day while I remember our fallen soldiers... I also remember that moment when I thought I was a widow and how blessed I felt that I was not.  And so I hold all those women and sisters and mothers in my heart.  The ones who opened the door, but who must have hesitated for a moment as I did.  Who thought to themselves "if I don't open the door, if I don't hear them say the words... then it cannot be true."

I printed out a poem and hung it on my refrigerator door that day with a yellow ribbon magnet.  And for the remainder of his deployment, and for all the (many many many) that followed... I did my best to play the role I was assigned, to perform my duties to the best of my ability.  And, to feel pride in what he was doing.  I realized I could own some of that glory for myself.  He had a hard job to do... and how much harder it had to be knowing I was home and angry.  I resolved that from then on when he thought of home... it would be without stress.  It would be knowing that while he was keeping our country safe, I was keeping his children safe.  I thought of all the soldiers of the past who had been drafted as I had been drafted.  And how they didn't let the fact that they hadn't willingly signed up for the military life stop them from serving as selflessly as if they had.   I knew I could do it too.  I could do this.  I could do it selflessly and lovingly and bravely.   I was an Army Wife.

 

 

My husband is a patriot, a brave and prideful man
And the call to serve his country not all can understand
Behind the lines I see the things needed to keep this country free
My husband makes the sacrifice, but so do our kids and me
I love the man I married, Soldiering is his life
But I stand among the silent ranks known as the Army Wife.