Reintegration Mad-ness?

These last few weeks have been torture. There are SO many ups and downs. It has felt like a lifetime, and that I jumped on the one way train to Crazy Town.

I am so incredibly happy for my friends to be home, for my friends' spouses to be home, and for the remainder of my friends to have their spouses home soon. Thank goodness. I am so happy for them. I am so happy for me, too, because that is about 80 less people that I need to worry about their safety. You can at least triple that when you include their families that I also worried about. Thank God this deployment is OVER!!!! For them.

With the highs have come the lows. It is easy to see what others have when I do not, and so difficult to watch it sometimes. I feel like the kid who is watching all of her friends eat ice cream, but she only has 25 cents, so can't get any. And no one else has any more change to spare. I regress in to a little child- they all get theirs, but I don't get mine. That seems truly selfish. But, please know that this is not a feeling that I have outwardly or toward them. It is one that is internal, and one that is eating me inside.

I knew that this part was going to be hard. I knew that I wasn't going to fully understand that this really, truly happened until I got to this point. I knew it was going to be tough, and I knew that I wanted nothing more than for this part to come, for them to be home and safe. I have been counting down the days with every soldier, and every family, since Day 1. About the fifth week of deployment, I marked on my work calendar what "week" we were in. I have been counting down to the time of bliss, even, and maybe especially, after Matt died. Little did I know that the bliss was going to be for All of us, but some of us wouldn't get the full effect.

I have never had a welcome home, someone to come home to kiss me after a long time away. Maybe that means that I don't know what I am missing out on? I have never had him go away and then come back. Maybe that is why I have been able to go to the Welcome Homes and be so incredibly and sincerely happy for those coming home and those receiving their loved ones. I have always been an onlooker for this part. There was no R&R welcome home. The longest that Matt and I were ever apart was for training missions for the Army. After two weeks, his homecoming was plenty spectacular! I can't even imagine what it would have been like after 8 months, or after 1 year.

I really mean I can't imagine that. During deployment, I would have good days and bad days. I would have strong and weak days, as I now call them. One day in particular, I was driving to pay my water bill. It was only about two months before he came home for R&R, and we were anxiously counting down until we got to see each other. I remember thinking about what I was going to wear, how I would get through security to wait for him by the gate, and how he would smell, and how he would look. These all seem like happy thoughts, right? Well, I broke down bawling. I couldn't picture what he would look like. I was so utterly afraid that I would lose him, and that I would not get that very extra special moment. It is weird our little "feelings" that we have. Intuition. Maybe it was me (or God?) protecting myself? I tried to convince myself for several weeks after that that this actually would not happen, and we would have our moment. Intuition.

Now that the soldiers are coming home, everyone is starting to "family up". I love that. I love that they get to spend time together, after a long, hard year. I love that they get to become reacquainted. That they get to smell each other, look in to each other's eyes, hug their children, kiss their spouse, play with their dogs and cats. Hold hands, have dinner, read quietly near each other. I absolutely love that. I am so happy for that.

And then, the madness sets in. I don't get that. I am not by any means mad at the families. No WAY! They have earned their place. They have fought through what many, many people, including Matt, have termed "the worst deployment ever" and deserve every bit of happiness and excitement that is coming their way! I am, however, very upset and angry with God.

Why couldn't God give us our chance? Why didn't we get our chance to kiss at a welcome home, hold hands again, become reacquainted, play with the dog, settle back in?

A wonderful, flowery friend of mine has recently told me that we choose our path before we come to live this life of ours. We choose our own obstacles. We choose the life that we are going to live. We find a path, and, without knowing in earthly measures, we follow it. In life, we are given our strength paths, and our weakness paths. We, namely God, knows our path and that which we must take to accomplish our goals. I also keep hearing "It will all make sense when we get there".

I think that I have figured mine out. Of course, I haven't figured out my life, and I will never stop asking why, I don't think, however, I think I have my strength figured out. My strength is Love. I really, truly believe that. I have so much love to give, and I want to spread it as far as I can. I give it to my family, my friends, my dog, complete strangers even, and most importantly, my husband, here or there. It is always unconditional. And, it seems that I never run out. It is sometime countered by those who that is not their strength, or their path, but it is always there. Until lately. I do have love still, but it has, unfortunately, been vastly overpowered by my grief. I have been standoffish to people that I truly care about, but it is more because of utter exhaustion than a lack of love. And for that, I do apologize sincerely. I don't know right now, how to be "me", and I know, more than anything, that is what some of those closest to me want right now. Unfortunately, I can't offer that at this time. I do know, however, that of me, my Love will return every bit as much as I have had it before, and maybe some more, because I have learned not to take advantage of that very precious gift.

As far as my strongest weakness goes, this situation, my husband dying, has lead me to learn that one as well. This is a journey that is supposed to be very important, but one that we can never quite figure out, until the end of our journey. This, I believe, is my Faith. I have always had Faith that God existed. It would be silly that He didn't. However, I have been careless with my faith. I have questioned it, repeatedly, again and again. Never has it been more clear to me than after I talked with the Chaplain in Dover, the day after receiving Matt home to the States. That conversation, one-sided on my part, with the Chaplain calmly looking at me and raising his hands without a word, granted me the strength and clarity that I needed to get through that day, and many months after. However, I still question it. I still struggle with it. I now know what I believe, and I believe that Jesus has walked amongst us, and that He has died for our sins, but I still question. I question the meaning of Life. I question God's intentions. I question why I am here and Matt is gone. I question why we were brought together to be ripped apart so soon. I will, however, never again question God's wrath. And I have been fighting His wrath, with my angry words to Him. My anger at Him. I also know now, that He is a loving God. If He didn't love me, then I wouldn't have met Matt. I wouldn't have been blessed with my parents, siblings, friends and his family. Thus, my circle of Love is protecting me from my weakness of Faith. And, through Love, I will find Faith.

On a strong day, there is so much Faith that everything will work out according to God's plan, and that to reap the reward, I have to suffer. On a weak day, I think that God knows nothing of what I want or need, and I will fight until I get it. The fighting makes me tired, and angry and draws the circle of pain again.

I miss my husband. I miss our nonexistent welcome home, and our nonexistent reintegration, our nonexistent future. But, today, I have the strength to smile that other families do have their welcome home, their reintegration, and their future.

Thank you for letting me share in it, and Welcome Home.

My Year Without Him

On February 24, 2010, my husband of 7 weeks deployed for a year. It was just a year, and we were going to try to do it just one time and then find another duty station that he wouldn't have to deploy from, or just get out of the Army altogether so that we could be together and live out our life and our dreams.

He did leave Torch Party, which meant that he was the first of his company to go. We tried to be positive. First one in, first one out. First to leave, first to come home. Ahh. How comforting that can be when you don't have a choice, and even moreso when you don't know what the future holds and that tragedy really can hit home hard. I didn't know that he would be the first to come "home" to the states the way he did in September. That was NOT in our plan.

Today is February 22. I have been without my husband for 363 days. I was told, when he left, that he would be fine. That he would come home. I wanted so, so badly to believe it. I needed him so much. I wanted him so much.

Through the first 7 months of the deployment, I taught myself (based on the previous lessons from my amazingly handy husband) how to do things around the house. I also had the help of my Daddy and April for some of the projects. I had a project board that I kept track of most of the projects I was doing around the house before our R&R. It was a good way to see my "accomplishments", keep my mind occupied, and to have pride in myself. It gave me wonderful things to talk to Matt about, and he was always so proud of me!

I had changed the panels on the fence, as the old ones were rotting out. I also had stained the fence to make it match. I had hung shelving, cleaned the garage numerous times, fixed clogged drains, landscaped the front yard. April cleaned up a holly tree that we have and really dislike, I moved so much dirt from the backyard to the front yard to fill in low spots, after digging out more of the driveway Matt built one year ago this week, to extend it. I have put tiles under the sink, pressure washed the house, sanded and painted a plant stand that Matt and I made together, built Lily a dog food stand, mulched gardens, and of course shampooed the carpets, kept up with the laundry and dishes and housework, and took care of my sick, sick puppy. I also kept up with the yard work for my house and a friend's house while they were away for the year. I have managed the money for our house to work to pay off bills, and not least importantly, our very anticipated and needed honeymoon. He was able to help me with that part. The list goes on and on.

Please note that I am NOT the only military wife that does this. I am not by any means complaining. Life would have been easier if he were here, yes, but in order to make him less stressed, and quite frankly, me less stressed, I worked through it with my projects. All military spouses have extra to do when they are here, alone, while their spouses are away, defending the country. I was one of the few that didn't also have children on top of the long, long list to take care of.

In my year without him, I accomplished a lot. In my first seven months without him, I accomplished a lot. I loved telling him about the different projects I had completed and hearing "good job, baby" or "that's awesome", or his pieces of advice on how to go about my next project. The last five months I haven't been so lucky to hear those words, or any words, come from his mouth. The phrases that I have been craving the most are "I love you" and "I am so glad that I am back home".

We didn't get our honeymoon. We didn't get our R&R. I have to say that the last time I saw him, the last time I looked at him face to face, the last time I hugged or kissed him, was around 10:30 p.m. on Wednesday, February 24, 2010. He has been gone from this world for only five months, but gone from my reach for a year. The last picture I took of him was as he was geared up, walking out to the bus that took him away from me. That bus took him to the place where he had to prepare to die for his country, and where he had to start living in "war mode".

I hate thinking that we purposely pushed our R&R back to October. What if we had had it in July, August or even September? Would he have been more rested? Would he have been able to avoid this? And, if God's plan was for him to go on September 21, no matter what, then at the very minimum, we would have had more time together, had it been earlier. We would have had at least a little more time together as husband and wife. I wouldn't have to say, already, that I haven't seen him for a year.

I should have welcomed him home. I should have been there cheering, tearing up, smiling uncontrollably because he was coming home with me. I should have had the opportunity with my husband to help him heal from this last deployment, and help him realize that no matter what, I am here, and I can help to make it better. I know they see terrible, awful things over there. That is what war is. Terrible, awful, ugly, heartbreaking. I could not have taken that away from him or his mind, but I could have made him know that he is home, we are home together and Home is Safe. I am Safe. I am here, and I will love him forever. My job for my husband is to make sure that he knows that with me, he is safe.

Matt will always know that I will love him forever. I will always know that I will love him forever. I will always know that he will love me forever. But, I can't make him feel safe, and he can't make me feel safe. I had never known true safety and comfort and protection until him. Honestly, I am not sure that he had known it until me, either. I remember when we first started dating, and he would come to my house after he got off early from work, and would instantly fall asleep in my lap while I was working. He was comforted, and he was protected. I like to think that I helped him, as much as I could, get past the last deployment. I wanted that opportunity to do it again, only this time, knowing that I was protecting my husband, our future, and our family. And, I needed him to comfort me, and to make me feel safe again, to help me know that he wouldn't get hurt and leave me like this.

I just wish I had a do-over. I wish I could take it back, rework things, and have this be our welcome home. Our chance for our year to be up so we would not be stuck in this deployment forever. I wanted so badly to prove to him, our family, and myself that I could be a good wife- the best wife. I already knew he was a wonderful husband.

Someone, since Matt died, has told me that Matt always said "I need to get out of Campbell. I need to stop deploying. My wife needs me." You know what? I think he needed me just as much. I think that we need each other.

Both of us have proved that we can accomplish on our own, but we didn't get the chance to show how much we could accomplish together over a long lifetime. We fit together so well. Together, we could have accomplished everything that we wanted to.

Life. Is not. Fair. The reason that it is the absolutely most unfair is because we are not given any sort of understanding of why incidences like this happen. We are not given a clue as to the mastermind plan behind love, hate, war. I feel that we are dropped in to a maze and told to find our way out in two hours, but the maze is the length of infinity, and we are given no map. The only sense I can make of any of this is the cliche that if we did not hurt, we wouldn't know love.

I am so glad that I had my year with him, so that I could stand my year without him. I need more of him, though, because I am not done hurting.

Happy Birthday, My Love

Hi sweetie. This is a different kind of blog, because it is a letter to you. I am going to share it with everyone, because you were probably so thrilled when you saw all of the participation. I know I was, and I am sure that your Mom was. It was a wonderful, beautiful day, with so many people coming together, most at the exact same time, to celebrate the wonderful man that you are. We put tags on the balloons so that we would hopefully get some responses of where they landed to "track" the other lives that you have touched throughout your journey.

I love you so much, and I miss you so much. I tell you this everyday, constantly. I know that you know this. I know that you love me too, and you miss me too, but I also know that you are right here with us, forever.

I wanted to give you some of my favorite photos of the day. There were so many, so I had to choose only a few of them, but ALL of them were so special.

This one is from Makayla. I thought this was sweet, and loved what Jason wrote. He said "We watched them until they disappeared, and then Makayla said 'Daddy, do you think that uncle Matt will get those in Heaven?' I said 'of course'."

This one is from a group of teens in Utah. We don't know any of these teens, but another fallen soldier's aunt sent these off for you, and for him, and for all the fallen. She also videoed this release, and they told you Happy Birthday, and then said the Pledge of Allegiance afterwards. It was so sweet.

This one is from Ambi and Jenny. They tried to release the balloons at 12:58, but it wrapped around the flagpole. The balloons then, she said, released themselves and flew away at 1 p.m. CT, which was the time that we coordinated across the country to release them. I love it!

I thought this one was really cool. This is an "eco-friendly" version of the balloon release. I love that they did this. I love the idea of all of the balloons, but really like the idea of the eco-friendly version. Maybe we will try something more like this next year. The balloons were absolutely beautiful to watch take off, but this is a nicer-to the environment way for us to celebrate. This is from a new friend and his daughter who have been very supportive to a few of us left from the Ozzie 76 incident. I told him and his daughter thank you, of course, and that we did put the tags on to track how many more were touched by you if they responded to the email, but that truthfully, I hoped that you got them all in Heaven, and then emailed us back. :)

This one, of course, is from Lily. You can't really see the balloons tied to her, but she let some go for you too. "Her misses her Daddy" every bit as much as the rest of us. She was such a good girl with these tied to her, and you know how terrified she can be of balloons! She released them outside while having a treat of "fresh" snow from the ground.

We all miss you so much. It is so hard to put it in to words. Here is the one that was taken today at our house. We had so many people, and so many good thoughts and Happy Birthday wishes going out to you today. We sang to you, as I know that many other people did as well.

I love you, sweetie. Selfishly, I wish you were here with us, and that we were singing to you in person, and you were blushing. Selfishly. However, I know that you are in a much, much better place, and the feelings that I get of overwhelming joy of where you are do sometimes outweigh the pain that I feel from having lost you. I can't believe that we lost you, but I can't think of a better place that we lost you to.

I love you, sweet husband of mine. Thank you for the smiles that you gave me while I had you, and thank you for the smiles that you will give me forever. I hope that I do the same for you, always.

Love,

Your Adoring Wife

Pictures

I don't have enough. I just don't have enough. I don't have enough of him and I don't have enough of us together.

I don't have enough because we didn't have enough time together. I took, and we took, our lives for granted. We took our lives together for granted. We KNEW this was a possibility, and we STILL took it for granted. In an earlier post this deployment, I said that I was going to have a camera in his face his entire R&R. I meant it. I needed to see the way that he looked at me, up close. I needed to see his smile. I needed to see his kiss to me. I needed this to get me through the remaining three months of deployment. Now I don't have them for the rest of my life. I have a few, but they aren't enough. There would never be enough to fill this, to fill the rest of my life without him.

I have a couple videos, and only one where he is the primary focus. One that, thank goodness, he did for Greg and Kim when they got married. Thank goodness I get to hear his voice and see his face move at the same time. But, no matter what, he was still far, far away from me.

I need him. I need Matt more than anything, and more than anything, he is the one thing that I can no longer have. I need my best, best friend. I miss my best, best friend. I miss the friend who will never judge me, and who will always make me smile. I need him. I need him because he would be able to make whatever is wrong in my life right. He wouldn't do it himself, he would push me to do it, and I would do it, but WE would do it together. He is doing that now, but it is very, very different. And, I have to wonder how much of it is me "talking for him". I know that if he were here and he would see me hurt like this, he would do anything that he possibly could to make it better. So many of my friends and family are trying so hard to do that, and no one can. I suppose if he were here, I obviously wouldn't be in this situation, and I wouldn't know what it feels like to lose at this incredibly hurtful and horrible manner. He doesn't want to see me hurt like this. Maybe that is why he had to go?

I am trying so hard to not hurt like this. I am trying to do anything in my power to make the hurt go away. Sometimes it just stops me in my tracks. I am fine, or so I think, and then night falls, it gets quiet, and then I stop. I stare, I can't find enough pictures. I don't have enough pictures that capture everything about him. I just don't have them. I can't see in a picture what I could see in his heart, but at least I can see something. I can look at something. Now, he looks to me like a cloud. Like a beautiful cloud. Sometimes he is in my mind and in my head, but I can't see him. That is when I close my eyes, and I can hear him, but I only see the sky. Sometimes I see him and picture him, but it is never the same as if I were to feel him.

It will never be enough. We lost so much that day.

I think that he is watching me. He sometimes laughs with me, sometimes he cries with me. Sometimes he holds my hand, but he is always with me. Sometimes he is there louder than others. Sometimes he tells me to quit pushing so hard, and other times he tells me to push harder. I just need to know if it is him or if it is my little inner voice. I can't differentiate them sometimes.

I want him to come home.

Can't Believe It

Well, it has now been 4 months and 4 days. I can't believe it. I can't believe this is my life.

We had such a plan. We knew what we wanted to do, and now I am left here trying to do it or not, and trying to decide how to do it or not. How in the heck am I supposed to do any of this without him?

If you would have asked me 4 months and 5 days ago what I would be doing this very week, I would have said cleaning, making sure that all of the projects were done, working my butt off trying to get ahead so that I could take a week off with my husband when he got home. Who knows, I maybe even would have said that I was preparing to take him with to his first doctor's appointment for our first baby. Four months and 5 days ago I wouldn't have had a date to think about just yet, but I would have known by now, and I know that I would be doing so much more than just sitting here wondering "Why?".

I can't believe that my life changed in one day. My entire life changed in one day. Our entire plan of our entire life changed in one day. Technically, in one instance.

I know that he wouldn't want me to mope around. That is precisely why I am trying not to do that. I have been trying to do something constantly to keep my mind off of things. In the last 4 months and 4 days, I have travelled, I have extended our driveway (with my Daddy and his brother Jason), built a shed (also with my Daddy), installed a toilet, cleaned the garage twice, cleaned the house numerous times (although you can't tell sometimes), started back to work, I have started working out again, gone to movies, gone out with friends, gone to bed early, gone to bed late, driven around town many times, had cars fixed, turned 30, made it through the holidays, as well as our anniversary and had numerous "places to be". In the last 4 months and 4 days, I have buried my husband. And that is all that my mind really comes back to, ever.

I could never call myself lazy. I never have been lazy. Sometimes I might be lazy with "this or that", but usually that only lasts a day or so, and usually the laziness that is more because I am doing something else or my mind is elsewhere. I have to be constantly moving. I was like that even before 4 months and 4 days ago. Part of me thinks that my activities help me, but I often wonder how much it is going to hurt me in the long run, not stopping and breathing.

Matt deployed with Torch party last year. He was one of the very first four or five people from the unit that left in February. That group is starting home towards the end of this week or early next week. They are going to be home soon. MATT should be coming home with them. When we learned of him leaving early, we tried to be positive. The sooner you go, the sooner you come home. First one out, first one back. Even though every second I am not busy doing something else I am thinking about this, it still does not seem real to me. I still cannot believe that this is us. It was never supposed to be us.

So, now I have to try to figure all of this out. I am going to continue to not mope around, but I am terrified of how much this is really going to hit me when everyone else comes home. I am so, incredibly thrilled that everyone else is coming home, but I am also so, incredibly envious that they get that and absolutely devastated that he and I and our family do not. The other families get to have theirs home, why can't my husband come home? And they are all going to come home knowing that they are coming home without 9 of the greatest and bravest men of this country.

Thank you, all, for your service. Thank you to the soldiers and their families. Thank you for your sacrifice, and thank you for your honor in serving for your country. Welcome home, and please, hug yours tighter. That is exactly what I would be doing if I were given the opportunity.

Crazy

I am Crazy. I am CRAZY. But, my Mom said it best. "Tiff, you ARE crazy. You are crazy in love".

As I sit here, listening to his iPod at midnight, wide awake after having a productive and strong day, and a visit with a fellow "crazy-in-love-r", I am filing through song after song, playing however they will, and finding meaning in everything that is playing. He's talking to me. I am going to listen. You know what? "She Talks to Angels". I do. He listens. And he smiles, so I smile back. And when he talks to me, I listen. I smile, and he smiles back.

I have lost him. I have lost HIM. It took me a long time, and a long journey to find him. But, unlike so many people, I DID find HIM. I didn't settle. He DID find ME. He didn't settle. We waited and fought through the journeys, and we found each other. And, you know what? I am not going to let this physical loss take him away from me. I will see him again one day. I will hold him, hug him, kiss him, and never, ever let him go. Nothing will ever be able to separate us then. I can't wait. I have more to do on this Earth, and then it will be time for me to see him again.

I know that I have already said it many times, but he really did make me feel like the most special person on this planet, no matter how far away he was. I know who we are, and I plan on continuing that. I know who he made me. He did make me what I am, really, and it is hard to sometimes keep that going without him, but those are only minor stumbles, ultimately. He has lifted me up. He has shown me that life is hard, but there is ALWAYS a reward at the end of the struggle. HE IS MY REWARD. He was for the first 30 years of my life, and he will be when my journey is over. Selfishly, I do want him here. I want to have my cake and eat it too, but knowing that I have to find and finish my journey here so I can see him again makes it that much more important to me to find it and finish it. I will travel whatever distance I need to, just to see him, hug him, hold him and love him again.

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, its back to work I go.....

Wow. I can't believe I have been gone from work for 3 1/2 months! It seems so unfair to my coworkers that I have been gone that long, especially knowing how busy we were BEFORE I had to go.

Its weird. I can't even hardly picture myself back at work. Back to "normal". I know that my normal won't be normal anymore. The number one thing that will be different from then to now is that my hubby won't pop up on my chat, or call in the middle of the day. I guess that is a distraction gone, but let me tell you, that was a MUCH needed and MUCH wanted distraction.

Every time I start thinking about stuff like this, Ozzy Osbourne's song "Life Won't Wait for You" comes on. That is one of Matt's favorite artists. It is on right now. I hear that song ALL the time now. I don't know if it is new or not, but it is definitely fitting in most of my life's situations lately.

How does one take that step in to normalcy? People say that work will be good for me. That it will help me think about something else. What if I CAN'T think about it, and stop thinking about him? I used to be good at my job. What if I am NOT good at my job anymore? Honestly, my every thought is still about him. And worse yet, what if I DO stop thinking about him?!?! Terrifying.

I wish, I wish, I wish this were not true. On occasion, I even talk myself in to believing it is not real, and that he is just on a mission of some sort, and that the briefing will reveal my husband. And that he will now get out of the Army, because we will not go through this again. How crazy is that? Denial. Denial. That is all it is.

I am so scared that because we had such a short time together, I am going to think that this- HE- was all a dream. Honestly, there does not exist the perfection that he is. There really doesn't. He was human, so he did make mistakes, but he was the closest to perfection that I have ever experienced. I am trying so hard to live up to that, and absolutely terrified of failure.

With all this going on in my head, how am I supposed to focus on work? How am I supposed to be able to be as good at my job as I once was? How am I supposed to step back in to my role, just like I never left? It really doesn't seem possible. But, it has to be possible. I have to just figure it out.

I am thankful to all of my coworkers and especially my boss for helping me through this, and helping me get the time I needed, especially this last week. I needed it. I feel MUCH more prepared this week than I did last week. I honestly probably would have had a nervous breakdown last week if I were trying to go back.

So, now to step in to my new "normal". I hope it fits me.