This was written while my hubby and I were in Bethesda at Walter Reed hospital so he could get treatment in the NICoE program (National Intrepid Center of Excellence). There was this therapy class that we went to that had us read something about a man going off to war and his wife not wanting him to go. There were a lot of feelings that I could relate to. We were asked to start writing whatever came to mind after reading it and for the first time I wrote down my own feelings. I don’t normally write about myself but it was very therapeutic to put a voice to what I had felt. So I thought I would share this with y’all.
To let go and have no control or knowledge of what the future holds, is the greatest hurdle to cross and the heaviest cross to bear. To share my family’s future and fate to the whims of a hell-bent person or people intending to destroy what we have and all that we are, is especially nerve-racking. Then to have those fears realized with a single phone call is earth shattering. And the overwhelming fear consumes and destroys the last visage of strength. Realization dawns: I am not okay. No tears, no breaks. Eyes watching me, ears listening. And I hold my head higher and pull those small souls to me and reassure and reinforce the bubble of safety and security that surrounds the innocence of youth. The moment I was born to overcome has risen, ugly and all-consuming but I don’t bow and I won’t break. But when will my time come to release the firm hold I must have on myself and my emotions? When will I be able to sit back and say, “The worst is over and it’s now time to enjoy and move forward?” A week, a month, a year? Those time frames have already come to pass and yet still I stand tall and unyielding. And still I trod forward to fight a war I never enlisted for and fight a war that should never have happened. A war that is a battle I gladly fight to protect the one I love. A war on doctors and commanders for the care he needs and the respect he deserves. When will my battle end? When will they say to him, “you are healed”? And when will I hear, “Rest now child, your path is complete”? Must I be at the end of my life’s journey before I see the end of his medical one? One step forward and two steps back. Yet still, here I stand, unyielding, unstoppable, Unbroken.
I was rereading this and now its been 3.5 years since my husband was WIA. He was finally retired this past May. After all the people who put him down and accused him of faking his injuries to get out(mind you my hubby has paralysis on the right said of his face with no movement and no feeling), the doctors that didn’t want to take the time to care for him, him getting 90% disability rating was a confirmation of everything we had worked for. It took a lot from us but now we can finally relax a bit. I can breathe for the first time in years. He hates not being able to work. He’s spent ten years in the military so I know its got to be annoying but now he has time for the kids and to go to their school activities and be apart of what he missed during his 10 (yes 10 as in one per year) deployments. The boys are finally building a relationship with him that they’ve missed and I get my partner back. Yes joining the military was a choice that he made and even one I’ve supported but it was never one the boys chose and I know they haven’t really fully understood why Daddy had to leave or why Daddy had to be gone so long but they definitely know why he’s home. They know what WIA is and are just as thankful as I am to have him home.