extensions

When a civilian hears the word "extensions," what is their first thought? Hair extensions? Tax file extension? Maybe something else... I can't be sure. It's been some time since I've felt like a civilian, even though, technically, I am a civilian.

When the Army community (I'd include the other branches, but this epidemic seems to only be affecting the Army) hears "extension", our response is automatic. We don't think of Paris Hilton and how it's possible for her to have really short hair one day, and long locks another. No, our response is automatic... fear grips, and desperation clings to the back of the throat. We hold our breathe while battalions, brigades, and sometimes, divisions are announced. In some instances... none are announced. This just leaves us thinking of hope. Praying... it's not us, it's not our neighbors, it's no one that we know... that is "extended". Then again, how can we not fret for our "brothers and sisters"? How can we not?

Our response is automatic... tour "extensions". We hate them. They come at the most inopportune time: anytime.

The worst thing about the announcement of "extensions"... is when we hear it on network news. When we haven't been given the respect of knowing before the general public knows... my mom knew before I. This is a serious flaw in the dissemination process. You may, or may not, recall this post last November in which I expressed my excitement for the changes to come. The announcement of "extensions", does not bode well for my attitude towards the Secretary of Defense... no, it does not.

Excitement does not linger. It loiters. It pisses me off. I haven't the official "your husband's unit will deploy for 15 months" confirmation yet so it leaves wanting and waiting once again on my freaking doorstep. It's banging on the door and ringing the bell... it's turning hope into anxiety, and loyalty into regret. It doesn't even wipe its feet! It's inconsiderate. It doesn't lay off when I close my eyes at night and attempt to sleep... it fights the muscles in my eyelids... forces my eyes to roll underneath...

"We don't know... what we don't know." I hate that answer.

La la la la la la lovely

As I'm picking up husband (I like that... I think I'll keep calling him that) from work one day last week, and we are casually talking about how many of the other Soldier's sit around counting the ways their wives can be bothersome, he says...

"I've got it made." This surprises me. So, naturally, I ask, "What do you mean?"

"Well, honey, you can mow the lawn, and keep a household together, including the 'male responsibilities', and you don't pester me about a 'honey do' list."

I thought to myself, "Me too."

Later, at a fabulous dinner of orange roughy, zucchini, and brown rice, husband says it again...

"I mean it honey... you pack for me, make me dinner and lunch, and I never run out of clean underwear. It's great."

So, I speak up.

"You know... I've got it made also. I love that we both know that."

Life these days requires all women, married or not, to be as independent as possible. This includes being able to mow the lawn, put gas in the car, clean up dog poop, and yes, kill a bug or two (I'm still working on the last)... all the while we've got to keep up with the so called "female duties" of cooking and cleaning. The military lifestyle requires an extra amount of individualism from its spouses. Yes, I'm married to the military. Even though I can keep it cool, and calm... and may appear indifferent... maybe I don't need husband, but God do I want him.

Pictures...

As life returns to normal... and the temperatures drop (hopefully... soon), I'm excited for the coming months of vacation. We'll go from cool to cold to freezing in a matter of 18 days. Anyway, here is a few pictures of when husband came home.
They came in the door that all the purple heart vets are facing. The lights went out though, and the "DJ" blew smoke from his little smoke generator thing... so, pictures were pointless.

This is Lois, our Lieutenant Colonel's wife, and our welcome home banner for 1st Brigade.

And, of course, us... I look a little crazy, crazy in LOVE!!

Thanks for all the "welcome home" messages from you guys. It's amazing to me that people I don't even know have interest in my life. Thanks so much.
Have a nice day! We are off to watch football at our local sports pub... and that is how you know life is back to normal!

pictures! don't get excited... it's just my yard.

Well, my house is clean, the yard is clean and decorated, Zora got a bath, the cat box got cleaned, the fridge is stocked, the sheets are washed, the lawn is mowed, the car is vacummed and full of gas... is there anything else? Oh yea, I better get in the shower and start the grooming ritual!! For by this time tomorrow, my hubby and I will be watching the sun set on our year apart... Our lives becomes "Our Life."

Here are a few pictures of what Matt will see when he gets home. I'll take some of the welcome home ceremony, and post them when I come up for air. ;)

Here's what Matt will see when we round the block towards our house... see Zora in the yard... she will have a t-shirt on. I'll post pics of that another time.


Here's what he will see when we turn the corner...


and what's in his face when we enter the driveway...


Here is what our Service Star Flag looked like on the day I put it up...


and one year later when I will take it down...


Well, that's all I've got for now. Stay tuned!

waiting to hear the best words, and waiting to breathe

I had a dream... I had a dream about my wonderful husband... It was lovely. I won't go into the details; you don't want to imagine them. I woke, and I swear, just as the sky is blue, I heard Matthew say, "Hey Hon?"

Two words that didn't carry very much weight.

"Hey Hon?" As if he were looking for his brown socks, phone charger, or shoe polish.

Words that have more of a hidden meaning than "I love you." Words that let you know... all is normal, or, as it should be, at least.

"Hey Hon..." as he begins a sentence that ends with his adoration of my "pretty little doe eyes."

Oh how I've missed the every day of love life... the every day ordinary...

"Hey Hon... do I have any clean shorts?"

When he says "hey hon," I can feel, with the breath he takes before speaking, how much he loves me. And, I am thankful.

"Hey Hon..." And we've picked up... like we never "left off".

"Hey Hon? Want some popcorn?" "...let me get you some coffee." "...what's my mom's telephone number?" "...does the car have gas?" "...want to go to a movie?" "...I love you."

Two words that didn't used to carry much weight... words I'd pay to hear.

"Hey Honey... I'm home."

EDIT:

I am so close... I am so close to all of the previous joys I have missed dearly. I am so close that sometimes, I almost breathe deep, and sigh out my worries. Then, I go to Today In Iraq, a frequent read, and the fear comes, and the tears come. The tears come because, I don't know where he is...? I have no idea... he could be in Baghdad, Ballad, Kuwait, or... he could be flying over the ocean, sleeping soundly and safely... on his way home. But, I can't lose sight... I can't lose sight of what is truly at stake... I must not... I waste not.

What I feel right now... is the worst feeling. It's as if my veins might explode... this feeling comes within a singular moment. Sometimes it happens everyday... sometimes it's only every three days... sometimes it's on the hour... it's completely fucking random. It's that moment when a person imagines the worst. And, I can't stop it. Only seeing his signature "I'm in uniform" walk off that bus and into my arms... will quiet the beast that beats just beneath my skin, and behind my eyes, enveloping my heart.

I am an American.

If you can read this, thank your teacher.If you can read this in English and speak freely about it, thank a veteran!!!! Today, Please remember those who have made the sacrifice for you.

"We preserve democracy; we don't practice it."

I just caught a welcome home ceremony on TV from Fort Carson. It's nice to see what I'm in for, and also, it's a sad wake up call. All the news can talk about is how 4ID Soldier's have been told to be ready to return to Iraq next Fall. I've tried so hard not to focus on this fact...

The Army... We are not part of regular society... we can vote... but have little say in what happens with our life. I'm so scared, and a bit excited, to see what changes will be made in the Secretary of Defense sector, as well as Congress.

Will they be beneficial? Or, detrimental. I don't know. We'll see...we will see. At the end of the broadcast, the reporter quotes an old saying, "We preserve democracy; we don't practice it."

Sad, but true.

I just want him home.

November? Seriously?

I can't believe this is near its end.

I've told myself, "You will not cry."

This is like telling your kid not to ask for toys when you go to Walmart... or getting through an entire talk show without a crack made at the President, or a rambling about how Brit and K Fed's split was so "unexpected".

Who am I kidding? I cry during Summer's Eve commercials when (fake) mother and daughter have a heart-warming discussion about their "freshness". I cried when Bobby on The Biggest Loser reunited with his family tonight!

The flood waters are coming... I just hope they don't last too long... I just hope Matt will get to the front of the line, rather than the back like last time... I just hope "reintegration" is as easy as can be... I just hope he doesn't have to go again... I just hope he gets home okay... I guess... I can only "just hope" for one thing.

I'm fucked...

haha... really fucked. Oh justice... how sweet you feel.

Nighty night.

my eyes are bleeding

Red, hot, fierce tears.

death and the upcoming

So many things seem difficult... mundane activities... everyday activities. Then, an activity comes around, that may only happen once a year, once every three years, or something that comes sporadically, and pray will ne'er return. I rightfully claim to be emotionally drained. This time of year used to be my favorite. The leaves should be changing; the weather is cooling; my birthday; Halloween; Thanksgiving... so many great events. The leaves aren't changing, the weather is barely cooling, my birthday sucked ass, and who knows how the others will turn out. My husband is on his way home so soon... but, there is so much sadness around me right now making it impossible to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

This weekend I attend the wake and funeral of one Magdalen Gosch, wonderful Grandmother, snappy card player, and one sassy woman. She went peacefully, for which we are all thankful, but these times can't help but be sad. I can't even imagine what my mother-in-law, and her siblings are going through. To lose ones mother... I can't even contemplate without my eyes bubbling and burning with salty tears. I can't imagine this world without my mother.

I sit here, crying through the words. I have to cry now... I can't break down there. I must be the rock, the hard place for which to lean. I need my rest for I will be in Minnesota by tomorrow night.

Also, this evening I bid a misty farewell to a friend that I haven't known long, but will miss and think of often. I am sad I won't be here to help, but I am needed much more elsewhere. I will see you both in a year, and you better call me so that we may ALL get together. It would be so grand to be a party of four... rather than the usual three... or two soon. You will be fine M... don't worry too much (that is a large feat if you manage not to worry a ton), he will be home soon. And B, take care, and thanks for doing what others will not.

Surveys seem so simple, and require so little...
1. One book that's changed your life.
Any VC Andrews novel ever...

2. One book that you have read more than once.
The Chronicles of Narnia

3. One book that you would want on a deserted island?
The ultimate Map Book or something... so I can plot my way home.

4. One book that made you cry.
Home Fires Burning--- Pain staking, Army Wife stories

5. One book that made you laugh.
Eragon

6. One book you wish had been written
I don't understand the question?

7. One book you wish had never been written
Mein Kampf Hitler--- Good one T

8. One book you are currently reading
Eragon

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read.
Mr. Murder- Dean Koontz--- Matt's reading it in Iraq

10. One book you're proud you own
ummmmm... the Dictionay

11. One book from which you must read aloud.
Persuassion- Jane Austen... that was a tough read

ahhh good deeds

Well, I think I've managed a good deed or two this year... but, today, tops the list (as in the one that gives me the most satisfaction). I've just picked up 48 sets of sheets, pillow cases, comforters, towels, and wash cloths from the Rear D command post. Why, you ask? Well, for washing! And, later... when we actually determine where they will go... we will all get together and make beds for single Soldier's returning home from Iraq! It's exciting. Good thing I live on post, and don't pay for water! I imagine this takes a huge weight off Rear D and all the things those poor people have to deal with... And, the Soldier's that may return home to no one, will at least have a place to lay their head, and towels for washing. Yay me!

By any other name...

This would still be a night alone. No fancy metaphors, no confusing Army mumbo jumbo... by any other name... this Wednesday night, may as well be a Monday or Saturday. This night does not deserve it's own name. I still spill over these words... I still beat the keys of my keyboard with moderate efficiency and accuracy... mediocre. This night is mediocre. Melancholy... I still stare at his smile placed so sweetly and delicately on the top of my computer monitor. So fragile that the slightest bump of my rickety desk, and the frame fumbles to the floor... tumbling many times before making it's crash. Today is not different. I still pick it up, wipe it off, kiss his face, and place it back in the same dangerous yet provocative spot. I must be able to see his face in every room. Each day I walk through our house... my head looks left of the bed... I see his face. it the bathroom I brush my teeth, and look at his blue eyes staring back at me. In the kitchen I make the coffee... I open the freezer, slam the door shut, and his picture jiggles on the front. As I watch TV, and he watches with me. As I sit and type to you, dear blogger, he sits with me.
Each day I am faced with a reminder of what's "missing". Not happiness... not love... just the comfort of both. I have them, but they are out of reach. As if I've purchased a great new pair of shoes, but they are on lay-away for an uncertain length of time... but, when the shoes come on, the crooked smile is wiped from my face, and replaced with tears of joy and sore cheeks.

The Army Wife Prayer

Dear Lord,

Give me the greatness of heart to see the difference between duty and his love for me.

Give me understanding that I may know, when duty calls him he must go.

Give me a task to do each day, to fill the time when he's away.

And Lord, when he's in a foreign land, keep him safe in your loving hand.

And Lord, when duty is in the field, please protect him and be his shield.

And Lord, when deployment is so long, please stay with me and keep me strong. Amen.

-- Author:anonymous

I want a red blender?

Sacrifice comes from a Middle English word meaning "to make sacred". Traditionally, it has religious connotations. In Judaism, sacrifices typically consist of animals, grain or wine. They are thought to make one "closer to God." in Christianity, God became a man to become the sacrifice of the everlasting covenant, Jesus Christ. In some Christian religions, Mass is seen as a sacrifice (hence all the "morning" people in Catholic Mass, uh). Self-sacrifice... Martyrs. Sacrifice in Islam, a healthy animal is sacrificed in remembrance of a Prophet's own sacrifice, and to help the poor. The manner in which the animals are sacrificed is very specific, and must not be deviated from. Human sacrifice was practiced by many ancient cultures... and still could be hiding in the brush. The term sacrifice is also used metaphorically to describe selfless good deeds for others.

So, which category do I fall into? I've never been a religious person. I've been to Mass many times. I was married in a Catholic Church... born into a family of Jehovah Witnesses. I'm still unsure of all the practices I "witnessed". I am married to a man in the Army. The Military is widely praised for their duty, honor, and selfless acts for their country. Does an Army Wife meet such high expectation? I live, and will live, without my husband for 3 more months... this time. Next time, another year... next time, another year... maybe two, maybe six months... maybe no time at all. Do I "sacrifice"? Do I serve a greater good? That is certainly up for debate.

I am not worth glorification.


"Sacrifice" is a term used lightly... casually... random and mostly undeserved. I cannot assume to have a greater purpose than any other individual in this world... this sweet world, often taken for granted, and at face-value... look deeper... beyond the high rises, smog filled sky lines, gas-guzzling SUV's, plastic bodies, weight obsessed teenagers, selfish human beings, and material worth... look past it all and you will see what's been missed with each ellipses.

I haven't decided on a title

So, I'm home alone. All you psychos out there... beware: I have a candle at my bed side. Since my man let for war, I've been very paranoid. Every noise the cat makes or when the TV creeks or the house "settles" my eyes pop open. I am officially an insomniac. Insomnia due to fear of... too scary to type.

It's not only stupid because I live in a safe neighborhood, I have deadbolts, I keep all the windows locked and I have a bark machine sleeping on the floor next to me but, also because I've lived alone before, in sub-standard housing! So much for my "empowered-woman" image. My hubby leaves and I'm freaked out by the hum of the heater or clanging of pots in the dish washer.

I need a bat.