So last night was.... eventful. To say the least. It started off as simply a little pow-wow of complaints about our very below-par healthcare here in the Army and the way North Carolina cannot for the life of them do things efficiently. Then I got some stressful news about the trip home. At this point all we could do (Beth and I) was laugh. We stopped complaining and we laughed. At the dumbest things, we laughed. It was as though the only thing left to do in this depressing situtation was claw our way to happiness. Even if it was a little shallow.
This is what people don't get so well. People don't understand that this place we're in - without our husbands, carrying the home on our backs, dealing with the Army and it's ridiculous protocol - is not normal. It isn't like anything else. It isn't like a wife of a business man who travels or of a trucker who is on the road all the time. It is different. Our husbands are gone for a year - at least - and their lives are on the line. We watch the news and hear about roadside bombs and helicopter crashes and we lose sleep. We hear about 4 soldiers dying and when the rest of the country says, "How sad," we think about what those wives are going through and ache because we can imagine better than anyone else how they feel. Despite all the positive thinking in the world, we wonder if our husbads will be on the news...
We are underappreciated. And I know that just about every demographic says that, but it's true. If people saw what we go through every day there would be a drastic difference in the way we're treated. If family and friends saw what we go through there would be more phone calls and e-mails of encouragement and outreach. We'd be higher on their priority lists. They would understand why we need very desperately to feel cared for and important. Just because Gabe left 6 months ago doesn't mean I need any less love. I need a steady flow, not just an outburst when he leaves me right away.
I am functioning out here without my man. I am getting things done and working hard. I am making sure I eat and I excersise when I can. I take care of my dog and I pay all the bills. I read my bible and I pray. The hardest thing I do every day is go to bed. But I do it. I get in that bed where my dear husband and I used to have our best talks and share our most intimate moments. I sleep on my side because I can't stand the thought of taking up the whole thing and not leaving room for him. I pray for him there and I hope that wherever he is he knows I'm thinking of him and I miss him. Now Samson's butt is the warmth I feel and I'm ok with it because I know that my husband couldn't do what he does if I weren't. I'm ok with it because I have no other choice. I'm ok with it because I believe in what he is doing and I trust that God has a plan. I'm ok with it because I have to be.
So last night after we laughed at our gay dogs (who are currently in a fight and it's not looking good for the relationship - Sam is giving Winston the cold shoulder and swats him away whenever Winston tries to lick him) and ate what little we could, we watched TV. By the way, I don't know what I'd do without cable to keep my house noisy. All of a sudden Ayden started spitting up this clear stuff and got really stiff. It was terrifying. His arms were flailing and his face went dark, dark red. Beth went right into mommy-mode. The "lionness" (as her mom calls it) came out and despite the obvious fear and horror she was feeling, she held Ayden upright and firmly patted his front and back. He began breathing again after about 7 lightyear long seconds. We took him to the ER because the hospital said they wanted to check him out since he did stop breathing and he is fine. Totally healthy and normal. Babies just have dramatic gag reflexes.
Which proves that we are fine. Ayden's over compensating gag reflex proves that Beth and I are able. If nobody else in the world get it - even the people that should - we get it. If nobody else will put us on the top of their priority list, we will for each other. Army wives need each other because not many others will step up to the plate.
So now we're cleaning Beth's house so she can leave and doing work that was supposed to be done for her. But we're ok with that. Because we have to be.
God really is good all the time.
This is what people don't get so well. People don't understand that this place we're in - without our husbands, carrying the home on our backs, dealing with the Army and it's ridiculous protocol - is not normal. It isn't like anything else. It isn't like a wife of a business man who travels or of a trucker who is on the road all the time. It is different. Our husbands are gone for a year - at least - and their lives are on the line. We watch the news and hear about roadside bombs and helicopter crashes and we lose sleep. We hear about 4 soldiers dying and when the rest of the country says, "How sad," we think about what those wives are going through and ache because we can imagine better than anyone else how they feel. Despite all the positive thinking in the world, we wonder if our husbads will be on the news...
We are underappreciated. And I know that just about every demographic says that, but it's true. If people saw what we go through every day there would be a drastic difference in the way we're treated. If family and friends saw what we go through there would be more phone calls and e-mails of encouragement and outreach. We'd be higher on their priority lists. They would understand why we need very desperately to feel cared for and important. Just because Gabe left 6 months ago doesn't mean I need any less love. I need a steady flow, not just an outburst when he leaves me right away.
I am functioning out here without my man. I am getting things done and working hard. I am making sure I eat and I excersise when I can. I take care of my dog and I pay all the bills. I read my bible and I pray. The hardest thing I do every day is go to bed. But I do it. I get in that bed where my dear husband and I used to have our best talks and share our most intimate moments. I sleep on my side because I can't stand the thought of taking up the whole thing and not leaving room for him. I pray for him there and I hope that wherever he is he knows I'm thinking of him and I miss him. Now Samson's butt is the warmth I feel and I'm ok with it because I know that my husband couldn't do what he does if I weren't. I'm ok with it because I have no other choice. I'm ok with it because I believe in what he is doing and I trust that God has a plan. I'm ok with it because I have to be.
So last night after we laughed at our gay dogs (who are currently in a fight and it's not looking good for the relationship - Sam is giving Winston the cold shoulder and swats him away whenever Winston tries to lick him) and ate what little we could, we watched TV. By the way, I don't know what I'd do without cable to keep my house noisy. All of a sudden Ayden started spitting up this clear stuff and got really stiff. It was terrifying. His arms were flailing and his face went dark, dark red. Beth went right into mommy-mode. The "lionness" (as her mom calls it) came out and despite the obvious fear and horror she was feeling, she held Ayden upright and firmly patted his front and back. He began breathing again after about 7 lightyear long seconds. We took him to the ER because the hospital said they wanted to check him out since he did stop breathing and he is fine. Totally healthy and normal. Babies just have dramatic gag reflexes.
Which proves that we are fine. Ayden's over compensating gag reflex proves that Beth and I are able. If nobody else in the world get it - even the people that should - we get it. If nobody else will put us on the top of their priority list, we will for each other. Army wives need each other because not many others will step up to the plate.
So now we're cleaning Beth's house so she can leave and doing work that was supposed to be done for her. But we're ok with that. Because we have to be.
God really is good all the time.
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