I suppose many of us could look at our lives and think of one persistent thing that has plagued us for years, or perhaps even our whole life. The decision then is whether you allow the unhappiness of it to fester, or accept it for what it is and move forward. I am trying to choose the latter.
As a lot of people know, Bill was injured in Baghdad in 2005. Not to over-simplify, but while in convoy an Iraqi water truck t-boned their humvee knocking it out of line by approximately 8 feet and briefly knocking the occupants unconscious. They came to, discovered their vehicle was still working, and hustled back to base. That is the moment that has stayed with us to this point, and been with us our entire life as a couple.
The accident happened right at the beginning of an 18 month deployment. They were checked out, released back to duty, but Bill didn't say anything about the injuries that were plaguing him. Numbness, headaches, insomnia... Eventually he was medi-vacced to Germany then back to the states where he waited in the Wounded Warrior program until his unit returned.
Fast forward to 2009 and we're back in WA with Bill doing the OWT program at JBLM. It's supposed to be a 1 year gig with a 1 year extension. At approximately 6 months into it, they informed him they wouldn't allow him a 2nd year. Medical issues from the 2005 accident were becoming aggravated as a result of the daily PT, and they didn't want any broken Soldiers in their command, so they cut him. That's when we started the process for the medical review board (MEB).
Most recently, as he's traveled to San Antonio for the MEB, talked more with the DAV and has finally after years and years worked his way closer to the tail end of the board, we've finally faced the reality that I don't think either of us wanted to recognize or admit. Bill's injuries, such as degenerative disc disorder, traumatic brain injury (from having his head knocked around inside that humvee like a coconut) along with other major issues says one thing: disabled veteran. So much so that the likelihood of him every returning to law enforcement is slim. It's actually probably none, but I say slim to ease that pain. He'll never do firefighting again, and lastly, he'll never be a Soldier again. The Army has said his back does not make him fit for service.
So we wait. We wait for a disability rating of 30% or higher because if it's below 30% he won't be medically retired. After 17+ years of service, if he got a rating of less than 30%, he'd just be put out. I cannot explain the depth of our emotions over all of this. Bill feels as though he's a burden to me and the family. I'm fearful of having a disabled husband and what that will demand of me. I am exhausted by this process, and it is again confirmed to me that I HATE the Army.
Bill isn't the first Soldier I knew. My dad was. My dad was also the first disabled veteran I ever knew. In fact, my association with the military started at birth, and was never positive. Always associated with a time of war, I have a Vietnam veteran for a father, and an Iraqi veteran for a husband. For a brief time between ages 16 - 19 military guys were fun. Go to work,come home, look cute in a uniform. I'd trained myself to forget about my dad, the abuse, his horrendous PTSD, and focused on the young, hot guys at different Army and Marine bases. Then 9/11 happened. It wasn't so fun and carefree anymore. People were deploying. I met Bill, and two months later he was gone. Then shortly after that he was in his accident in Baghdad.
Seven years later, I find us nearing the end of a long tunnel, waiting to hear our fate. What will his rating be? If it's too high, will they label him as unable to work in the civilian work force? Will they rob him like they've done these past years and give him less than 30%, then we'll have to deal with all that entails? I don't know. This fight has made us both weary. That said, I don't pray for its quick execution if it isn't done correctly. I will accept what comes to us only if the findings are accurate and fair. Otherwise, somehow, I will muster more fight.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Friday, September 7, 2012
Laughable
I've fought myself these last several days, debating whether or not to say anything, but the writer in me demands I just come out with it already. I recently discovered a former friend of mine got married. Under normal circumstances it's no biggie; however, this person has apparently managed to meet, date, become engaged and eventually married to a guy within approximately 5 months' time. Fast much? And while I understand my criticism and judgement only affects me, I think given the years we did spend as friends gives me a certain amount of rights to share my thoughts on it. Even if no one else reads this but me.
First, I think of the company she now keeps. The company she replaced me with. Company that she once shared she was jealous of specifically and jealous of the general friendship. Company that she utterly hated and judged for many years, only to become the superficial definition of BFFs and giving each other pet names. Company who's on her third marriage herself, albeit only one of them genuine, the other two contractual and purely for the sake of receiving benefits reserved for the wife of a service member. Be careful the company you keep.
How'd I find out? Well, it wasn't by snooping. It was out of doing a favor for my mother that I unearthed this gem of knowledge. I wonder, when her second marriage ends in divorce, if she'll point all fingers to the ex-husband again. If she'll point to the fact that no one knew her pain, that he really wasn't that great of a guy, that, that, that... I'm exhausted by females who play up the soul mate factor to justify hasty and idiotic decisions only to tear that wall down later to expose the real truth. That they were never happy. That no one knew their plight as his wife. Gag me. I feel more sorry for the male who was married to a fake individual from the get-go.
I also marvel at the fact that mere months ago she was broke, living at home, in debt, sometimes barely able to put gas in her vehicle, to hosting a wedding and vacationing in wine country. Makes me wonder if haste wasn't monetarily motivated. Why not? Catches her up to her peers, or where she thinks her peers are or should be by this age. Puts her back in the 'responsible adult' category of life making her legitimate again as a 30-something. These thoughts by the way are being turned around on her. They are hers. Thoughts she shared with me on why she felt uncomfortable meeting with old friends of ours because she didn't want to discuss life since she was divorced and living with her parents vs. married and living as an independent adult.
If the foundation isn't laid, how can you build upon it? Her dysfunction comes out in relationships. Without nitpicking, the ultimate result in most relationships - parents, friends, ex-husband - is her unwillingness to dig in and work for it. If it becomes uncomfortable for her, she won't address it. Avoidance is her super power. She wrote me off before her first marriage. I found out the reason for the break in our friendship after, when she was broaching divorce, because she needed me again. I may not be the most exciting friend or acquaintance she has, but I'm the most reliable, and most constant. I am the tortoise. She is now, along with her new company, the hare. Flash in the pan, sparkle for a night, one trick pony...hare. An opportunist at best, her fair weather approach to relationships will leave her sad, lonely and regretful. I asked her, right before she pulled the plug on us the first time, if 15 years of friendship meant nothing to her. Her reply was no, it didn't. Keep that in mind, new husband, and re-kindled company. Although, this relationship methodology has become a game well played by said company, so that could quickly become a who-beats-who to the punch type game.
In the meantime I will go on, slowly and unexcitedly, with my life which includes my husband of many years, my sweet 2-year-old baby girl, dogs and whatever children are to come. I'll work my same job, drive my same car, wear my same clothes but one thing has changed. I am no longer the sanity touchstone. When friends go off thinking they can do better, befriend better, they'd better be certain. I am no longer available to them. Ava changed all that. If I spend any time and energy on anyone, it'll be on my family. Friends are second. Always will be. Thanks for the chuckle.
First, I think of the company she now keeps. The company she replaced me with. Company that she once shared she was jealous of specifically and jealous of the general friendship. Company that she utterly hated and judged for many years, only to become the superficial definition of BFFs and giving each other pet names. Company who's on her third marriage herself, albeit only one of them genuine, the other two contractual and purely for the sake of receiving benefits reserved for the wife of a service member. Be careful the company you keep.
How'd I find out? Well, it wasn't by snooping. It was out of doing a favor for my mother that I unearthed this gem of knowledge. I wonder, when her second marriage ends in divorce, if she'll point all fingers to the ex-husband again. If she'll point to the fact that no one knew her pain, that he really wasn't that great of a guy, that, that, that... I'm exhausted by females who play up the soul mate factor to justify hasty and idiotic decisions only to tear that wall down later to expose the real truth. That they were never happy. That no one knew their plight as his wife. Gag me. I feel more sorry for the male who was married to a fake individual from the get-go.
I also marvel at the fact that mere months ago she was broke, living at home, in debt, sometimes barely able to put gas in her vehicle, to hosting a wedding and vacationing in wine country. Makes me wonder if haste wasn't monetarily motivated. Why not? Catches her up to her peers, or where she thinks her peers are or should be by this age. Puts her back in the 'responsible adult' category of life making her legitimate again as a 30-something. These thoughts by the way are being turned around on her. They are hers. Thoughts she shared with me on why she felt uncomfortable meeting with old friends of ours because she didn't want to discuss life since she was divorced and living with her parents vs. married and living as an independent adult.
If the foundation isn't laid, how can you build upon it? Her dysfunction comes out in relationships. Without nitpicking, the ultimate result in most relationships - parents, friends, ex-husband - is her unwillingness to dig in and work for it. If it becomes uncomfortable for her, she won't address it. Avoidance is her super power. She wrote me off before her first marriage. I found out the reason for the break in our friendship after, when she was broaching divorce, because she needed me again. I may not be the most exciting friend or acquaintance she has, but I'm the most reliable, and most constant. I am the tortoise. She is now, along with her new company, the hare. Flash in the pan, sparkle for a night, one trick pony...hare. An opportunist at best, her fair weather approach to relationships will leave her sad, lonely and regretful. I asked her, right before she pulled the plug on us the first time, if 15 years of friendship meant nothing to her. Her reply was no, it didn't. Keep that in mind, new husband, and re-kindled company. Although, this relationship methodology has become a game well played by said company, so that could quickly become a who-beats-who to the punch type game.
In the meantime I will go on, slowly and unexcitedly, with my life which includes my husband of many years, my sweet 2-year-old baby girl, dogs and whatever children are to come. I'll work my same job, drive my same car, wear my same clothes but one thing has changed. I am no longer the sanity touchstone. When friends go off thinking they can do better, befriend better, they'd better be certain. I am no longer available to them. Ava changed all that. If I spend any time and energy on anyone, it'll be on my family. Friends are second. Always will be. Thanks for the chuckle.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Inspired Change
There are many things that can spur change in our lives. Some motivators are more mysterious while others are more obvious. I have recently felt the need to do a financial cleanse on our family's budget. I was frustrated with finances, particularly the amount going out vs. the amount coming in. Since I couldn't affect change on the amount coming in, at least not immediately, I decided to affect change on the amount going out. My first draft on this change was refinancing our truck. Doing so saved us over $200/month. Awesome! Several months passed and I decided more change needed to be made, so I cancelled a superfluous insurance, dropped cable, transferred a credit card balance to a secure line of credit and finally, we traded-in the truck. Before the trade-in, but after the other changes, I think I counted over $550 saved/monthly. WOW! We had that much in unnecessary funds going out?!
Now, the new vehicle raised our payment by $100/month, but not all change has to do with money. It's V6 engine will sip instead of guzzle the gas like our 5.7 liter V8 Hemi engine did, but it's more than that. It is a SUV that fits our family. I researched vehicles for two months, had countless dealers appraise our truck, and finally ended up going with a 2012 Chevrolet Traverse. We were considering a Dodge Durango and a Ford Explorer, but the Explorer was all flash and no function and the Durango was nearly the same. The Traverse is roomy, comfortable and a great value. SUVs are expensive by nature, but with different rebates and incentives plus a pretty good APR on the loan, I feel we got a good deal. Yes, there was negative equity from the truck, but we got the new vehicle for $1000 below invoice. Yeah buddy!
So I'm excited about the new vehicle, obviously, new cars are always fun. So why did I cry when we drove out of the dealership in it? I turned around and looked at the truck as we pulled away and that's what did it. It's a truck. Why. Am. I. Crying? Grr, Kristen. Well, here's why. It was the first vehicle Bill and I ever purchased together. It moved us from Kansas to Washington, and brought home our first child. I took care to customize it some as a gift for Bill after he returned from his last deployment. Other than guzzling gas, which is what she was made to do, she never gave us a fit. I cried because I don't transition well with change, even change I evoked, but also because I felt like we were leaving behind a piece of our family. Yes, I know it's a truck. But she's got 64,000 miles of our life on her. Thanks, girl xo
So now we need to come up with a name for the new truck, which is a Gold Mist Metallic. Color always inspires a name. I want Charlotte because it sounds grown up and sophisticated, like the new vehicle. Bill isn't sure. He suggested Carrie, after my favorite Sex and the City character. I giggle at the fact that we're both thinking of SATC in relation to the vehicle. So I cried driving it the other day. Well, more like just had tears well up in my eyes. Because I looked back at Ava and she had room. She looked so comfortable. I knew if she were to fall asleep she couldn't have to do so nearly upright, but reclined and more relaxed. This change was clearly inspired by and happened because of Him. He new I was trying to make a better life for my family and His grace made it happen. Thank you, Father. Now on to the next 64,000 miles and beyond.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Not Going as Planned...
So my idea was I'd focus more on blogging, less on Facebook. It was a good plan too, except I run into the issue of lack of time, energy or a combination of both. I want to write. As I drive to / from work ideas flood my mind of things to write about, but by the time I find the opportunity to write I can't keep my eyes open long enough to get the first two sentences out. Creativity has officially met parenthood, and parenthood is winning.
Ava loves when I gently lift up her hair and blow on the back of her neck. She was being ornery the other evening during story time so I lifted her hair and began blowing a cool gentle breeze on her warm neck. I focused in on the red stork bite she still has on the nape of her neck, and instantly remembered asking the nurses in the hospital right after I'd had her if that would fade. They guaranteed me it would. So far it has not. My query was more out of curiosity than anything else. Thinking of that moment in time, having my new baby girl, so curious about this brand new life and all her markings, I became overwhelmed and began to cry. Ava turned around and said "it's okay, mom." That dichotomy still gets me; I get lost in my mind over a moment of when she was a newborn only to have the moment flash forward to the reality that she's 2 and is consoling me now when I cry. She's more precious than anything on this earth.
Of course not all moments are Hallmark perfect. Did I mention she's ornery? She's crafty, too. So much so she scares us. We've converted her crib to a toddler bed because despite our attempts to counteract it, she's been crawling out, opening her door and finding us in the house. She's so proud of herself when she succeeds, too. She'll come walking out laughing and say "hi mommy!" She's a total girl, too, and not because of anything we're doing. She's into being a princess. Where'd she get that from? I don't say anything about princesses, and neither does Bill. Yesterday as I put away her laundry she insisted getting into the most frilly dress she saw, matching shoes, and said it was "so pretty," and "I'm a princess!" Yes baby, you are. Not in the way this world will try to condition you to believe though, but in the way your Father in Heaven sees you. You are His princess. I will fight tooth-and-nail against the definition of princess this world has. Entitled, selfish, self-serving. Ava is also into clothes in general. For example, we passed some clothes in a store the other day and she stopped to stroke the item and said to me "oh my gosh, it's so pretty!" What she doesn't know is I'm a sucker, and if she labored on loving it for too long I'd end up buy it for her. Heaven help me - seriously.
So why can I write now? My mom graciously picked Ava up yesterday around noon and kept her overnight. I didn't get near as much done around the house as I wanted, but the reprieve from being a mother for 15 or so hours was an intangible and invaluable gift. Thanks, mom. I feel rested, rejuvenated, and even got to enjoy a date night with Bill last night. I got to spend an evening with my husband that wasn't rushed or timed. It actually felt a little bit like we were dating again. I am blessed that I am in a happy marriage filled with mutual love and appreciation. Ava is blessed that her parents love each other. We are all together blessed for having God in our life who gives us all these things. Life will continue to net us ups and downs, blessings and opportunities to grow. I want to be worthy of all of them. I hope the next blessing we become worthy of is our second child. In His time, right?
Ava loves when I gently lift up her hair and blow on the back of her neck. She was being ornery the other evening during story time so I lifted her hair and began blowing a cool gentle breeze on her warm neck. I focused in on the red stork bite she still has on the nape of her neck, and instantly remembered asking the nurses in the hospital right after I'd had her if that would fade. They guaranteed me it would. So far it has not. My query was more out of curiosity than anything else. Thinking of that moment in time, having my new baby girl, so curious about this brand new life and all her markings, I became overwhelmed and began to cry. Ava turned around and said "it's okay, mom." That dichotomy still gets me; I get lost in my mind over a moment of when she was a newborn only to have the moment flash forward to the reality that she's 2 and is consoling me now when I cry. She's more precious than anything on this earth.
Of course not all moments are Hallmark perfect. Did I mention she's ornery? She's crafty, too. So much so she scares us. We've converted her crib to a toddler bed because despite our attempts to counteract it, she's been crawling out, opening her door and finding us in the house. She's so proud of herself when she succeeds, too. She'll come walking out laughing and say "hi mommy!" She's a total girl, too, and not because of anything we're doing. She's into being a princess. Where'd she get that from? I don't say anything about princesses, and neither does Bill. Yesterday as I put away her laundry she insisted getting into the most frilly dress she saw, matching shoes, and said it was "so pretty," and "I'm a princess!" Yes baby, you are. Not in the way this world will try to condition you to believe though, but in the way your Father in Heaven sees you. You are His princess. I will fight tooth-and-nail against the definition of princess this world has. Entitled, selfish, self-serving. Ava is also into clothes in general. For example, we passed some clothes in a store the other day and she stopped to stroke the item and said to me "oh my gosh, it's so pretty!" What she doesn't know is I'm a sucker, and if she labored on loving it for too long I'd end up buy it for her. Heaven help me - seriously.
So why can I write now? My mom graciously picked Ava up yesterday around noon and kept her overnight. I didn't get near as much done around the house as I wanted, but the reprieve from being a mother for 15 or so hours was an intangible and invaluable gift. Thanks, mom. I feel rested, rejuvenated, and even got to enjoy a date night with Bill last night. I got to spend an evening with my husband that wasn't rushed or timed. It actually felt a little bit like we were dating again. I am blessed that I am in a happy marriage filled with mutual love and appreciation. Ava is blessed that her parents love each other. We are all together blessed for having God in our life who gives us all these things. Life will continue to net us ups and downs, blessings and opportunities to grow. I want to be worthy of all of them. I hope the next blessing we become worthy of is our second child. In His time, right?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)