This is just my experience; others whose family members are in a war zone have different experiences. This is what it’s like at our house.
I hear a lot of “Oh, you are so brave, I would just fall apart if my husband was over there/gone for so long/in such a dangerous place.”
Bravery does not enter into the equation for me: falling apart is not an option. There are kids here who need to be fed, need someone to be there, and keep things going, so things just get done.
The kids. They keep me going. I cannot be a mass of jelly when kids need me to get up and fix breakfast, quell their almost daily riots and teach them. I don’t know how I’d handle this separation without the kids here to keep me somewhat sane. Although they do seem to suck out what sanity I do have on some days, they help so much to just get me through those days.
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We’ve done this for three tours of duty, and now we are on tour four. 2002-2003: twelve months. 2004-2005: six months. 2008-2009 six months. 2009-2010 six months. The boys are used to this now, and deal with the separation much differently than they did in the first two tours.
Bryan was 9 when John’s first trip started. He’s 17 now. JT was so clingy during the first trip that Bryan complained, “You don’t hug me as much as you do JT. I want hugs, too.” OUCH. Ever since then, I have made it a point to hug on Bryan as often as he’ll let me. He still hugs back, and even chooses to sit next to me in worship instead of searching out his friends.
JT was 5 when John left the first time. JT wears his heart on his sleeve. We “sent JT” to John in 2003, like we did with Luci last year. JT told us that he would answer the phone if the army ever called again, and “tell them ‘You can’t have my Daddy!’” JT says that he still hates many commercials because “they show Dads having fun with their kids.” And then he cries.
Luci has had an agonizing time, even worse than JT had back in ‘03. Much of her angst stems from remembering being left in China--she is aware that someone left her for the orphanage to find. She vaguely remembers being left by the orphanage director in 2005--handed over to some strange people who became her family. The International Adoption Clinic in Birmingham has helped quite a bit, helping us to be more sensitive to what she needs and not forget the fear she has in all the rush just to get through the day. Dreams, nightmares, recurrent fears of Mommy never coming back, of strangers stealing her away, and even of Daddy dying really keeps me wary of just what is said around her, and what is on the TV and radio. Something that has helped Luci is a special photo album of just pictures of Daddy in Afghanistan, Daddy with her during his time here, Daddy in his armor and with his weapons (that is comforting because Luci can see he can protect himself) and of course, printed out emails that John sends just especially for her.
We also “sent Luci” to John and he posted her picture in his office. It was a big hit not only for John, but the other engineers in the office, too.
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We’ve started a construction paper chain this time, as a visual for Luci so she can have something concrete showing John’s trip. There is a link for every day since John left. So far, we have 93 links up (just over half-way through this trip), and it is half-way around the dining room. It is depressing to me to have this reminder of just how long this trip is. Luci is excited about it, though, because she wants to decorate “the whole house!” with it when John comes home in December.
We got a Wii game set-up and made a Wii character named Daddy (I spelled it “Daddii“ on the game)--that sounds so silly, but you would not believe how much fun all three kids have seeing “Daddy” rooting for them or on their baseball team. It’s as if John is participating with them. Every time he pops up in the games, all three (yes, even Bryan!) holler to everyone else that “Dad’s in my game!”
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Me? I was old enough when John’s first trip started, and I’m older now. But it is all the same. I constantly check email. I carry the phone around the house and on his first trip even rigged up a place to hang it in the shower so I wouldn’t miss any call from John. This time, John’s in a place where he can call every day--really a blessing. But I end up not wanting to leave the house if he hasn’t called yet, or staying up late if he hasn’t called yet. I check the internet news sites many times a day, especially if he hasn’t called. Trying to be calm around the kids when I think he should have called but hasn’t for some reason…that is hard. Sometimes it’s just because the phones are out. Sometimes the internet is out where he is. But then there are the times when I do get the email, and it will have the title, “Bombing” or “Blast” and my heart nearly stops. The other day, our neighbor came to the door around 8:30 pm. I nearly panicked when the doorbell rang. We are in a rural area and our houses are far apart. Showing up at near-dark never happens. I was so relieved to see “just” a neighbor.
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We’ve had some doozies happen while John’s away. One friend says that she thinks the house can feel a drop in testosterone and thus starts to fall apart. On John’s first trip, our septic tank backed up into our basement…one-inch deep. All over. Nothing salvaged. $30,000 worth of damage to the structure. Thank God for good house insurance and for the Delano and Woods families from church. They helped me empty the basement and several businesses in town got the basement put back together.
On John’s second trip, nothing really major happened. But the trip started about 10 months after his first trip was over. He landed in Kabul on our third baby’s due date. I had miscarried the April before. I was devastated and so depressed. John had no idea what was going through my mind as he settled in to his new job; he had forgotten the due date. Really hard.
The third trip: We are in a different house, further out in the county. Truly wonderful neighbors helped us out, and are still helping. Nothing major that time. We did have a nice “daddy-do” list on the refrigerator for John when he got home. Everything from taking the boys to play paint-ball, having a tea-party with Luci, to fixing the kitchen cabinet doors.
This time, everything is going fairly well. I did get summoned for jury duty in US District Court, told to show up on October 5th. It meets in Birmingham and for two weeks I was biting my nails hoping they would defer my duty until after John gets back. I finally heard late last week that my “request for deferral has been granted” and that I “would be summoned at a later date.” They have me on file for the next two years, so I imagine that in February I’ll get another summons. Oh! I got shingles this time, too. Thank goodness it was not a bad case.
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Most of the time it is smooth sailing overall. It is very isolating, as we are not in a military community. John’s trips have all been the sort where he is plucked from his unit and plopped down with a completely different unit. We’ve had no support group at all, until the YMCA here started up a support group for all of their patrons connected with the military. I am so thankful for the YMCA. Finally some ladies who know what I am going through!
Homeschooling isolates me even more. The kids get to do lots, but I don’t. My circle of friends here is rather small. To combat the closed-in feeling, I search out more field trips to do while John’s gone. Usually there is a little extra money associated with John’s tours so we can go on more field trips (we have plans this week to go to the Nashville Zoo, for example). We’ve been able to go visit my folks 2,000 miles away. I have traveled out there 4 times now without John. I think it’s four times. Driving. Yes, that’s 2,000 miles each way. Since we got home with Luci, I don’t fly anymore. 9/11 cured me of the desire to fly. I remember JoAnne asking me, at the beginning of John’s first trip, if I were the type to sit and mope. I told her no, we have plans to go places and do things. And go we do.
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When John was debating whether or not to go on trip #3 (last November through May), he said that the kids and I seemed to do really well. I told him that was because I didn’t burden him with any bad news. (The basement flooding with excrement was an exception! I can think of only one other major problem I unloaded on him.) He has enough on his plate to deal with without petty problems from home. John said this time he wants to hear the good and the bad. So, that’s what he has gotten--he leaves me here with two teenaged sons and a preschooler, there are going to be problems. Sometimes I wonder which one of us is in the war zone. Trying to parent and correct from so many miles away doesn’t always work, so he does leave most of the decisions up to me. Talking long-distance all the time is very unsatisfying and often frustrating. He’s my rock. I don’t know how he feels when he hangs up, but I know how I feel. Most of the time I hang up and pray for John. Sometimes I end up bawling.
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When we go to town, we have to drive through a little village named St. Florian. When we get to St. Florian, about two miles from town, I tell the kids, “Everybody smile.” By the time we get to where we are going, we have a nice face plastered on and most people think we are doing fine. Our church family is our family here, and we love them. They give us hugs and pats on the back, and an occasional meal. Some of them get to see our real faces.
