My friend Pamela just posted the ultimate cuteness on her blog, and since my kid is part of the package, my heart is melting and I feel a need to boast a little. Please check out Pamela's latest blog post at:
http://allweneedisamor.blogspot.com/2011/03/in-love-again.html
If this pure sweetness doesn't bring world peace, then I don't know what will.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Double Digits
Thanks, Kristin...you got me to ten followers! I'm in the double digits now, baby! No stopping us now! :-)
My Guy...(Our Guy)
Everytime I take out my phone to call someone, or whenever my phone rings, Bryony immediately asks, "Dads?" It breaks my heart to have to tell her that no, we're about to speak to a relative or a friend instead. She obviously craves her dad's presence so much, and I just want to be able to give her what she wants. I've found that it's quite difficult to strike the right balance of having enough Adam in our lives without having too much Adam here. By this, I mean I want Bryony to remember her dad, to think of him and know that he loves her. However, I don't want her to obsess about where he is (in as much as a toddler can obsess), or spend the next eight months with a broken heart because he's not here. It's tough, because I have a broken heart, so how can I expect for her not to?
Luckily, last week, a gift from Kuwait arrived in the mail. Adam had told me it would be coming; in fact, he had been asking me everyday if it had arrived yet. And then, one day it did. A USO operation was located at the base in Kuwait that Adam passed through on his way to Iraq, and they allowed him to make a special gift: a DVD recording of Adam reading a book of his choosing to Bryony. He shipped both the book ("Green Eggs and Ham") and the DVD to us. As soon as Bryony saw him on the TV, a huge smile broke over her face and she looked from me to the screen, pointing and repeating, "Dads!" What fun it was to watch my little girl as she studied the face she hasn't seen in over a month, a face she's been missing so dearly. She eventually got comfortable with his presence and she settled back to recline in my lap as she read along with the book. And then, the book was over, and Adam said some final words, and the recording stopped. She looked up at me quizzically. How does one explain these things to a toddler? I played the DVD again and she was happy, at least for the time being.
Today, my friend Emily came over to watch Bryony while I went through a phone interview. Knowing I wouldn't have peace and quiet if I stayed in the house, I took the call outside in my idling car (yes, yes, I know, but it was 25 degrees outside and I needed heat!). After the half-hour interview, I went back inside to find a tear-stained Bryony and a tough-as-nails Emily straddling her own infant daughter while showing my daughter that I'd returned. Turns out, after twenty minutes of songs, books and games, Bryony suddenly had a ten-minute meltdown, screaming for her "Daddy!" the entire time. I was shocked that she screamed for him before she called for me, but I'm now starting to fully realize the entirety of her grief. She misses her man as much--if not moreso--as I do. At least I have some understanding as to why he's gone; she has no context for why he is suddenly gone and only appears sporadically on the TV or computer screen. Her heart is breaking.
When it was time to put her down to nap, she screamed long and fiercely, like her soul was being ripped away. I pulled her from her crib and held her to me, tight and close and whispered into her hair, "I miss him, too, honey." She fell asleep in the cradle of my cuddle, her tears and choking sobs slowly having subsided.
We love you, Adam.
Luckily, last week, a gift from Kuwait arrived in the mail. Adam had told me it would be coming; in fact, he had been asking me everyday if it had arrived yet. And then, one day it did. A USO operation was located at the base in Kuwait that Adam passed through on his way to Iraq, and they allowed him to make a special gift: a DVD recording of Adam reading a book of his choosing to Bryony. He shipped both the book ("Green Eggs and Ham") and the DVD to us. As soon as Bryony saw him on the TV, a huge smile broke over her face and she looked from me to the screen, pointing and repeating, "Dads!" What fun it was to watch my little girl as she studied the face she hasn't seen in over a month, a face she's been missing so dearly. She eventually got comfortable with his presence and she settled back to recline in my lap as she read along with the book. And then, the book was over, and Adam said some final words, and the recording stopped. She looked up at me quizzically. How does one explain these things to a toddler? I played the DVD again and she was happy, at least for the time being.
Today, my friend Emily came over to watch Bryony while I went through a phone interview. Knowing I wouldn't have peace and quiet if I stayed in the house, I took the call outside in my idling car (yes, yes, I know, but it was 25 degrees outside and I needed heat!). After the half-hour interview, I went back inside to find a tear-stained Bryony and a tough-as-nails Emily straddling her own infant daughter while showing my daughter that I'd returned. Turns out, after twenty minutes of songs, books and games, Bryony suddenly had a ten-minute meltdown, screaming for her "Daddy!" the entire time. I was shocked that she screamed for him before she called for me, but I'm now starting to fully realize the entirety of her grief. She misses her man as much--if not moreso--as I do. At least I have some understanding as to why he's gone; she has no context for why he is suddenly gone and only appears sporadically on the TV or computer screen. Her heart is breaking.
When it was time to put her down to nap, she screamed long and fiercely, like her soul was being ripped away. I pulled her from her crib and held her to me, tight and close and whispered into her hair, "I miss him, too, honey." She fell asleep in the cradle of my cuddle, her tears and choking sobs slowly having subsided.
We love you, Adam.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Love in the Time of a GI virus
The last two days have been tough for Bryony and me, as she's come down with a stomach bug that apparently has been going around for some time. She threw up around 15 times yesterday, including on herself, on me, on furniture and the floor, in the kitchen and bathroom sinks, to name a few...
However, this was my favorite scene from all the sickly madness...
However, this was my favorite scene from all the sickly madness...
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
A Shout Out
I noticed the other day that my little list of blog followers (aka "Elusive Stalkers") has grown from five to eight in the last couple weeks. How exciting! Thanks to those of you who read and support the blog, as well as to those of you who comment, send me emails, or even chat with me in-person about the topics I write about. It's nice to know that some of this stuff strikes a cord and resonates with other people.
And, for those of you who aren't officially "followers," feel free to become one if you feel so inclined! I'm always shocked (and thrilled) to find out how many people actually read my blog, because there are times when I feel like no one's really out there reading. I realize I can write about some pretty heavy or controversial topics, so I totally understand if you're hesitant to comment on posts, but it would be great to have a better idea of who's "out there." Be a joiner. Come on, you know you wanna.
Thanks again for all your support over the last four years this blog has been in existence. We're still going strong...
And, for those of you who aren't officially "followers," feel free to become one if you feel so inclined! I'm always shocked (and thrilled) to find out how many people actually read my blog, because there are times when I feel like no one's really out there reading. I realize I can write about some pretty heavy or controversial topics, so I totally understand if you're hesitant to comment on posts, but it would be great to have a better idea of who's "out there." Be a joiner. Come on, you know you wanna.
Thanks again for all your support over the last four years this blog has been in existence. We're still going strong...
Monday, March 14, 2011
Insecurity, A Love Story
I have started to wonder if there is a such thing as a completely secure, self-confident person. I mean, I know we all have times in our lives when we are fearful of particular situations (a first date, public speaking, etc.), but I'm talking about overall comfortable-with-who-you-are-ness. Like, not assuming that the rest of the world is thinking the negative thoughts about you that you're thinking about yourself (and totally not caring even if they are!).
Hey, I'm guilty of being insecure (as my husband would be the first to attest to). I wish I were more creative and I look with wonder at friends who seem to tap into interior decorating, clothing ensembles, photography or crafting effortlessly. I feel like I'm devoid of a creativity gene and find that I'm always nervous about having people to my house (Did I make an artful enough meal? Do the curtains match the accesories? Why can't I manage to arrange our photo frames into something flattering and eye-catching???). I'm also lacking in confidence when it comes to my parenting abilities (hence, the nervous Sorry! I mutter when Bryony is misbehaving or throwing a tantrum). And I worry whether I come across as smart enough; have I kept up with current events, do I know literary and pop culture references, can I discuss in detail the Theory of Relativity?
I see the same lack of confidence in my friends, too. I have wonderful, amazing women in my life who are smart, witty and of whom I'm completely in awe, and yet they too have feelings of inadequacy. It's mind-boggling. Like, why does one friend always apologize for everything, even for things that aren't her fault (like, it's raining outside)? Why does another friend seem insecure about her abilities and background when she's at the height of her career? And another friend, who doesn't think she deserves to have people devote time to her? Or, my friend who's so busy judging herself against her partner and other women that she doesn't recognize the smarts, talent and beauty she has?
One common theme here is that all of these friends are women. I'm not suggesting that men don't fall prey to self-confidence and inadequacy issues. Sure they do, but I think they don't show it in as straight-forward a manner as women. No, men are more likely to pick a fight in a bar and turn it into a back-alley brawl; buy an obscenely expensive and completely unnecessary vehicle or sound system; or be a "player" in their relationships with romantic partners. Women self-deprecate, apologize for perceived shortcomings and downplay successes and accomplishments. We tell the world outright that we're not worthy.
Although it would be difficult for me to acknowledge myself, I know that the things I consider my inadequacies really are not. I know that any one of my friends would say that I am a decent cook overall, that they never noticed whether my curtains match the throw pillows, and that my family is so lovely the photos of them overshadow any lack of creativity in my frame arrangement. And likewise, I would tell my one friend that she need not ever apologize because she is one of the most giving and thoughtful people I've ever met. And to my other friend, I am in awe of the work she does and the many professional achievements she has amassed. And I would tell my next friend that she is the person I strive to be, and time spent with her is always food for the soul and lightning bolts for the mind. And for my last friend, I would say she need not compare herself to anyone else, for she is smart, talented and lovely all on her own.
Again, I ask: Is it possible to feel completely adequate and secure? Can we have a love affair with ourselves? Perhaps that is the one love story we're still waiting to read.
Hey, I'm guilty of being insecure (as my husband would be the first to attest to). I wish I were more creative and I look with wonder at friends who seem to tap into interior decorating, clothing ensembles, photography or crafting effortlessly. I feel like I'm devoid of a creativity gene and find that I'm always nervous about having people to my house (Did I make an artful enough meal? Do the curtains match the accesories? Why can't I manage to arrange our photo frames into something flattering and eye-catching???). I'm also lacking in confidence when it comes to my parenting abilities (hence, the nervous Sorry! I mutter when Bryony is misbehaving or throwing a tantrum). And I worry whether I come across as smart enough; have I kept up with current events, do I know literary and pop culture references, can I discuss in detail the Theory of Relativity?
I see the same lack of confidence in my friends, too. I have wonderful, amazing women in my life who are smart, witty and of whom I'm completely in awe, and yet they too have feelings of inadequacy. It's mind-boggling. Like, why does one friend always apologize for everything, even for things that aren't her fault (like, it's raining outside)? Why does another friend seem insecure about her abilities and background when she's at the height of her career? And another friend, who doesn't think she deserves to have people devote time to her? Or, my friend who's so busy judging herself against her partner and other women that she doesn't recognize the smarts, talent and beauty she has?
One common theme here is that all of these friends are women. I'm not suggesting that men don't fall prey to self-confidence and inadequacy issues. Sure they do, but I think they don't show it in as straight-forward a manner as women. No, men are more likely to pick a fight in a bar and turn it into a back-alley brawl; buy an obscenely expensive and completely unnecessary vehicle or sound system; or be a "player" in their relationships with romantic partners. Women self-deprecate, apologize for perceived shortcomings and downplay successes and accomplishments. We tell the world outright that we're not worthy.
Although it would be difficult for me to acknowledge myself, I know that the things I consider my inadequacies really are not. I know that any one of my friends would say that I am a decent cook overall, that they never noticed whether my curtains match the throw pillows, and that my family is so lovely the photos of them overshadow any lack of creativity in my frame arrangement. And likewise, I would tell my one friend that she need not ever apologize because she is one of the most giving and thoughtful people I've ever met. And to my other friend, I am in awe of the work she does and the many professional achievements she has amassed. And I would tell my next friend that she is the person I strive to be, and time spent with her is always food for the soul and lightning bolts for the mind. And for my last friend, I would say she need not compare herself to anyone else, for she is smart, talented and lovely all on her own.
Again, I ask: Is it possible to feel completely adequate and secure? Can we have a love affair with ourselves? Perhaps that is the one love story we're still waiting to read.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Ten Reasons to Love Lansing
Adam loves to remind me that, back in 2002 when I first moved to Michigan, I hated it here. After all, I had just left the bustling metropolis of New York City, where you can get an incredibly good slice of pizza, a scrumptious round bagel or cheap Chinese food pretty much all day and night. There's culture, culture, culture and life doesn't really ever stop. Why did I leave again?
It took some time to reconcile myself to life in Michigan, but after making some dear friends and becoming more involved in the community, it started to feel like home. And, in 2008, I began volunteering for community organizations and local activist campaigns and really felt like I had carved out my niche. Add to that fact, I had a baby and developed an amazing cohort of smart, funny and strong fellow mama friends, and I realized I was rooted to this place. And then, I moved. And I was really, really sad, in case you don't remember. And now I've moved back, and while not everything is the same, I feel like I'm home again.
So, in honor of all the warm fuzzies I'm getting about being here again, I thought I'd do a shout-out to this fair city. You have lots of things that can be improved, old girl, but you're on your way, and there are a lot of us here who love you.
1) Cost of living. This place rocks when it comes to being able to afford a decent standard of living. You won't live in a palace and your house will likely be a fixer-upper, but you can probably own your own piece of property on a student or entry-level job income. And you still might have some extra dough to splurge on eating out from time to time.
2) Transit system. We don't have light rail here, but the Capitol Area Transit Authority (CATA) is rated amongst the top systems in the nation when it comes to cost, accessibility and regularity. Even though having a personal vehicle makes things more convenient, you don't really need to have one here; CATA will take you just about anywhere you want to go in Lansing, East Lansing Okemos and beyond.
3) Educational opportunities. Lansing is a virtual epicenter when it comes to access to post-secondary education. Just over the border in East Lansing is Michigan State University, where one can enroll in an undergraduate, graduate or continuing education program (not to mention medical, dental, veterinary or law school). Downtown Lansing offers Cooley Law School (the largest law school in the nation), Lansing Community College and Davenport University. Whether you're hoping to enroll in law school at Cooley or you want to take a night class in Swahili at MSU, opportunity abounds.
4) State government. There is no better place to have your finger on the pulse of state politics than in the state's capitol city. I am just a bike ride away from our capitol building, city hall and various other government buildings. My claim to fame is driving one Saturday morning along one of Lansing's major thoroughfares while snarfing a bagel and cream cheese. While stopped at a stoplight, I turned to look at the car next to me only to see that Governor Jennifer Granholm was seated in the passenger seat. I looked at her, she looked at me, I waved like an idiot with cream cheese smeared all over my mouth, she frowned at me, and then the light turned green and she was gone. I was fascinated and humiliated all at the same time.
5) The City Pulse. Speaking of having one's finger on the pulse of things, Lansing's local alternative newspaper is a staple here, read by liberals and conservatives alike. It's the go-to newspaper to read about local politics, current musical and theatrical events and the best eats around. I found my favorite breakfast place--Sawyers Pancake House--while reading the City Pulse. I particularly love the crossword puzzle and "Ask Amy" advice column toward in the back.
6) Arts & Entertainment. Lansing and East Lansing are havens for the performing arts. Between the local theater troupes--Riverwalk Theater and Boarshead Theater--and the travelling professional theatrical shows that perform at the Wharton Center at MSU, we are not at a loss for culture by any stretch. Musical acts range from homegrown groups that play at bars such as The Green Door and (before they closed) Magdelena's Teahouse and Temple Club, to world-renowned artists that play jazz, classical, rock and country music concerts at Wharton and Breslin Centers. Students can usually get fairly cheap tickets to the professional performances, and if you're willing to sit in the nosebleed section, you can usually afford to attend just about anything.
7) On the radar. While most Lansingites wouldn't believe it, our little city was recently named amongst the top ten U.S. cities to live in for young adults. Kiplinger took into consideration many of the things that have already made my list--low cost of living, educational opportunities, cultural attractions--and propelled good old Lansing into the top ten. Many people I know can't believe that Lansing was even being considered, but I say, "Wake up, folks. There are lots of things to do here if you just pick up the City Pulse and read. Trust me." And now the rest of the nation knows it, too.
8) Community. When I first moved to Lansing, I had the advantage of being in the microcosm of school to help me meet people. Then, I had a job and had the benefit of friendly coworkers, and then I had a baby and met a bunch of fellow mothers. But Lansing's community is strong on connectivity. I can't meet a person here who doesn't somehow know one of my other friends from a totally different part of my Lansing life. I volunteer at different community events and by the end of the day, I have left with ten new friends. Seriously. This place is truly a social butterfly's paradise, which is why it was so hard for this papillon to leave last year. But wouldn't you know it...my first trip to the grocery store since I've been back had me running into two friends--one from grad school and one from my community activism days. It didn't take long for me to feel like I was back in the embrace of my people.
9) Diversity. Lansing is diverse. Ethnically, minority groups make up about 40% of the total population, and with higher education available, many foreign students regularly relocate to the city. Additionally, Lansing hosts an impressive refugee community orginating from Eastern Europe, Asia, Africa, and South America. Lansing is also home to a large and active LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) community, which hosts the Michigan Gay Pride Parade in downtown every year, and is constantly working to educate the public about its culture. Lansingites are poor, middle-income and well off. Some have healthy retirements and others live on welfare and food stamps. But, we are all citizens of this city, and most of us are proud of it.
10) Access. Located in the heart of Michigan, Lansing is only a short drive away from many of the state's top tourist attractions, ranging from the urban metropolis of Detroit, to the hippy counterculture of Ann Arbor, to the natural wonders of the Lake Michigan coastline. The drive to the Mackinac Bridge is roughly 3 1/2-4 hours away; the Upper Peninsula (known to Michiganders as the "U.P.") is then at your fingertips.
We all know about Michigan's economic hardships, so it can be hard to remember what draws people to this area. I know why I love it here; perhaps this can serve as a reminder (and an incentive to come) to others. Go Green, Go White, Go Sparty!
It took some time to reconcile myself to life in Michigan, but after making some dear friends and becoming more involved in the community, it started to feel like home. And, in 2008, I began volunteering for community organizations and local activist campaigns and really felt like I had carved out my niche. Add to that fact, I had a baby and developed an amazing cohort of smart, funny and strong fellow mama friends, and I realized I was rooted to this place. And then, I moved. And I was really, really sad, in case you don't remember. And now I've moved back, and while not everything is the same, I feel like I'm home again.
So, in honor of all the warm fuzzies I'm getting about being here again, I thought I'd do a shout-out to this fair city. You have lots of things that can be improved, old girl, but you're on your way, and there are a lot of us here who love you.
1) Cost of living. This place rocks when it comes to being able to afford a decent standard of living. You won't live in a palace and your house will likely be a fixer-upper, but you can probably own your own piece of property on a student or entry-level job income. And you still might have some extra dough to splurge on eating out from time to time.
2) Transit system. We don't have light rail here, but the Capitol Area Transit Authority (CATA) is rated amongst the top systems in the nation when it comes to cost, accessibility and regularity. Even though having a personal vehicle makes things more convenient, you don't really need to have one here; CATA will take you just about anywhere you want to go in Lansing, East Lansing Okemos and beyond.
3) Educational opportunities. Lansing is a virtual epicenter when it comes to access to post-secondary education. Just over the border in East Lansing is Michigan State University, where one can enroll in an undergraduate, graduate or continuing education program (not to mention medical, dental, veterinary or law school). Downtown Lansing offers Cooley Law School (the largest law school in the nation), Lansing Community College and Davenport University. Whether you're hoping to enroll in law school at Cooley or you want to take a night class in Swahili at MSU, opportunity abounds.
4) State government. There is no better place to have your finger on the pulse of state politics than in the state's capitol city. I am just a bike ride away from our capitol building, city hall and various other government buildings. My claim to fame is driving one Saturday morning along one of Lansing's major thoroughfares while snarfing a bagel and cream cheese. While stopped at a stoplight, I turned to look at the car next to me only to see that Governor Jennifer Granholm was seated in the passenger seat. I looked at her, she looked at me, I waved like an idiot with cream cheese smeared all over my mouth, she frowned at me, and then the light turned green and she was gone. I was fascinated and humiliated all at the same time.
5) The City Pulse. Speaking of having one's finger on the pulse of things, Lansing's local alternative newspaper is a staple here, read by liberals and conservatives alike. It's the go-to newspaper to read about local politics, current musical and theatrical events and the best eats around. I found my favorite breakfast place--Sawyers Pancake House--while reading the City Pulse. I particularly love the crossword puzzle and "Ask Amy" advice column toward in the back.
6) Arts & Entertainment. Lansing and East Lansing are havens for the performing arts. Between the local theater troupes--Riverwalk Theater and Boarshead Theater--and the travelling professional theatrical shows that perform at the Wharton Center at MSU, we are not at a loss for culture by any stretch. Musical acts range from homegrown groups that play at bars such as The Green Door and (before they closed) Magdelena's Teahouse and Temple Club, to world-renowned artists that play jazz, classical, rock and country music concerts at Wharton and Breslin Centers. Students can usually get fairly cheap tickets to the professional performances, and if you're willing to sit in the nosebleed section, you can usually afford to attend just about anything.
7) On the radar. While most Lansingites wouldn't believe it, our little city was recently named amongst the top ten U.S. cities to live in for young adults. Kiplinger took into consideration many of the things that have already made my list--low cost of living, educational opportunities, cultural attractions--and propelled good old Lansing into the top ten. Many people I know can't believe that Lansing was even being considered, but I say, "Wake up, folks. There are lots of things to do here if you just pick up the City Pulse and read. Trust me." And now the rest of the nation knows it, too.
8) Community. When I first moved to Lansing, I had the advantage of being in the microcosm of school to help me meet people. Then, I had a job and had the benefit of friendly coworkers, and then I had a baby and met a bunch of fellow mothers. But Lansing's community is strong on connectivity. I can't meet a person here who doesn't somehow know one of my other friends from a totally different part of my Lansing life. I volunteer at different community events and by the end of the day, I have left with ten new friends. Seriously. This place is truly a social butterfly's paradise, which is why it was so hard for this papillon to leave last year. But wouldn't you know it...my first trip to the grocery store since I've been back had me running into two friends--one from grad school and one from my community activism days. It didn't take long for me to feel like I was back in the embrace of my people.
9) Diversity. Lansing is diverse. Ethnically, minority groups make up about 40% of the total population, and with higher education available, many foreign students regularly relocate to the city. Additionally, Lansing hosts an impressive refugee community orginating from Eastern Europe, Asia, Africa, and South America. Lansing is also home to a large and active LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) community, which hosts the Michigan Gay Pride Parade in downtown every year, and is constantly working to educate the public about its culture. Lansingites are poor, middle-income and well off. Some have healthy retirements and others live on welfare and food stamps. But, we are all citizens of this city, and most of us are proud of it.
10) Access. Located in the heart of Michigan, Lansing is only a short drive away from many of the state's top tourist attractions, ranging from the urban metropolis of Detroit, to the hippy counterculture of Ann Arbor, to the natural wonders of the Lake Michigan coastline. The drive to the Mackinac Bridge is roughly 3 1/2-4 hours away; the Upper Peninsula (known to Michiganders as the "U.P.") is then at your fingertips.
We all know about Michigan's economic hardships, so it can be hard to remember what draws people to this area. I know why I love it here; perhaps this can serve as a reminder (and an incentive to come) to others. Go Green, Go White, Go Sparty!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
A Quickie
No, folks, not that type; after all, my husband isn't around right now. No, just thought I'd deliver a quick update to those of you who have inquired about Adam's current status and Bryony's and my well-being and states of mind.
Adam is FINE. Actually, he's doing really well. I received a call from him today and he is still waiting for a flight out of his current location to join his unit. I can't put into writing his actual whereabouts or his final destination, but rest assured he is okay. In fact, he managed to run into several old Navy buddies from years' past (some from as many as TEN years ago!) while at his current location, and is happy to catch up with old friends.
Bryony and I are okay. We spend a little time talking about Daddy everyday, and we look at lots of photos of him, blowing him kisses (or kissing the picture) to feel connected. I've actually been surprised by how much I feel like I'm operating on autopilot these days. It almost feels like I'm in shock, as the full weight and enormity of the situation doesn't seem to register most of the time. I think that I am consciously avoiding thinking about it so that I can get through my day; otherwise, I'd have multiple breakdowns that would only serve to upset and confuse Bryony. It wouldn't do me any good, either.
A couple fun things have come our way that have lifted the mood. The USO (Uniformed Services Organization, a non-profit that supports servicemembers and their families) sent me a care package (yes me, the spouse!) to help get through the year. Included were coupons and gift certificates for various things like restaurants and grocery items. My favorite gift, however, was the hard-bound journal that was included; a way of writing down the year's events, day-by-day, for Adam to read when he returns. Or perhaps it's more catharsis for me as I end each day. Or maybe it's both.
The other cool thing was yet another USO-supported gift. Adam said that he has been video recorded reading a book to Bryony and both the book and the DVD will be shipped to us. I can hardly wait to watch her as she sees Daddy reading a book to her. I know I'll probably get more out of it than she will, but still. It's the little things that keep me going these days.
Anyway, before this quickie turns into anything more intimate (*smirk*) I had better get going. Thanks again for all your thoughts and well wishes. Friends and family helped get us through the last two deployments and I know your support will help carry us through this one, too.
Adam is FINE. Actually, he's doing really well. I received a call from him today and he is still waiting for a flight out of his current location to join his unit. I can't put into writing his actual whereabouts or his final destination, but rest assured he is okay. In fact, he managed to run into several old Navy buddies from years' past (some from as many as TEN years ago!) while at his current location, and is happy to catch up with old friends.
Bryony and I are okay. We spend a little time talking about Daddy everyday, and we look at lots of photos of him, blowing him kisses (or kissing the picture) to feel connected. I've actually been surprised by how much I feel like I'm operating on autopilot these days. It almost feels like I'm in shock, as the full weight and enormity of the situation doesn't seem to register most of the time. I think that I am consciously avoiding thinking about it so that I can get through my day; otherwise, I'd have multiple breakdowns that would only serve to upset and confuse Bryony. It wouldn't do me any good, either.
A couple fun things have come our way that have lifted the mood. The USO (Uniformed Services Organization, a non-profit that supports servicemembers and their families) sent me a care package (yes me, the spouse!) to help get through the year. Included were coupons and gift certificates for various things like restaurants and grocery items. My favorite gift, however, was the hard-bound journal that was included; a way of writing down the year's events, day-by-day, for Adam to read when he returns. Or perhaps it's more catharsis for me as I end each day. Or maybe it's both.
The other cool thing was yet another USO-supported gift. Adam said that he has been video recorded reading a book to Bryony and both the book and the DVD will be shipped to us. I can hardly wait to watch her as she sees Daddy reading a book to her. I know I'll probably get more out of it than she will, but still. It's the little things that keep me going these days.
Anyway, before this quickie turns into anything more intimate (*smirk*) I had better get going. Thanks again for all your thoughts and well wishes. Friends and family helped get us through the last two deployments and I know your support will help carry us through this one, too.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
A Long Good-Bye
Hello again, dear Blogosphere. It's been awhile, but I'm back. Back in Michigan, back online (and now I have Soul II Soul's "Back To Life" playing on the internal turntable of my brain).
It's been a tough three weeks as we planned, cried, packed, bickered, cried some more, and then moved. And then we said good-bye: to friends, to Texas, and to each other. Good-byes are always the hardest part.
Adam's unit deployed ahead of him; since he's a reservist, he had to go through deployment processing in Georgia before he could mobilize with the rest of his colleagues. I was grateful to have a few extra days with him; we spent part of that time packing, part of it making silly home movies for Bryony to watch this year, and part of it just getting lots of "hug time" in to make up for the months ahead when our arms will be devoid of each other. I cried at the most insignificant moments--when Bryony would run up to Adam's leg and hang on, laughing; when I secretly examined my handsome husband's long, lean and muscular frame, thinking of how sexy he is; when he laughed his great big Adam laugh, all toothy and dimply. I knew how hard it was going to be to give up those moments in the coming year, and so I took mental snapshots so I could have something to hold on to.
In mid-February, we attended the farewell ceremony for Adam's unit in a large gymnasium on base. Although Adam has been on two previous deployments, neither of us had ever attended anything like this since reservists don't usually get ceremonial sendoffs. This affair, however, was commonplace for active duty servicemembers and their families and I was curious to see what it would be like. I wasn't prepared. The gym was packed with soldiers in formation, their M-16s dangling at their sides, their gearpacks resting near them. Our men and women in uniform were gearing up for a year away from their country, their families, from the comforts of home. It was a humbling experience to witness. I wondered, briefly, if some of them might not make it back home. Looking out into the crowd of faces I didn't know, the thought of their sacrifice made tears glide down my face. Soon after we arrived and found seats in the bleachers, a senior non-commissioned officer got the ball rolling. He talked about how much the military appreciates the families who take care of the homefront while the troops are away, and how much he knew the year would be difficult for those of us left behind. I don't know how much weight I put in his words; like many before him, it often feels like a scripted speech when military leaders acknowledge the families. I felt bitterness bubbling up inside me when I thought about how little they truly understand what it's like to be the one left behind to handle life, to worry about your spouse, to deal with your own loneliness. Next to speak was a chaplain, whose words felt more sincere when he acknowledged that most of us attending that night were full of sadness and grief for an impending separation. I appreciated the lack of "hoo-ah!" (Army rallying call) behind the sentiment of his commiseration; he really was speaking to the families, not giving a canned pep talk. Finally, a general stood up and gave a short speech, mostly filled with call-and-repeat jargon that was meant to motivate the troops, but felt like a harsh slap to those of us who were quietly grieving. After the speeches, the troops were given thirty minutes to say goodbye to their families before boarding the bus that would take them to the airport. Adam, Bryony and I walked around, and I found myself looking down at the floor so as not to intrude upon the private family despair that was being unleashed all around me. Fathers holding crying, trembling sons and daughters who were old enough to understand; husbands and wives tearfully holding on to each other; pregnant wives who knew their husband would miss the birth of their baby; mothers leaving small children behind knowing the kids would be so different upon return. I cried silently for their pain for the pain I knew I was facing ahead. It all just seemed so unfair. Who else in America is subject to this lifestyle? Who else has to go through this, has to know how this feels? Just then my girlfriend and her family walked up, minutes away from bidding her husband good-bye. I saw the tears on my friend's face and my heart broke. She is a new friend, but a good one and I had never imagined having to see her in pain; now our grief was out for public display and we hugged, finding strength in our friendship and shared experience.
And then, the thirty minutes was over much too soon and the troops assembled in formation once more to exit the building. Those of us on the sidelines continued a sustained applause for each of them as they made their way to the busses. Soon, the gymnasium was nearly empty but for the few stragglers and those in charge of cleaning. We let Bryony run around wild, yelling and waving her arms over her head like a mad child, in utter delight. Mental snapshot.
The next couple days were a blur as Adam packed his car for the drive to Georgia and finalized administrative paperwork. The night before he left, we stayed up until 3:00 am finishing our taxes. It was like cramming for an exam the night before; we were so extremely tired but giddy at the same time. Even in the midst of extreme fatigure, my husband insisted on printing the addresses of the envelopes to the feds, state and local governments; no handwritten addressing for him! No matter what the circumstances, he believes things should always be done the "right" way. I think we didn't actually fall asleep until around 4:00 am because in our last night together, we had so many things we still wanted to talk about as we drifted off to sleep.
Plan A was that I was going to leave Texas at the end of February and either drive out to Georgia to give Adam one final sendoff, or else move up to Michigan. But then, just days before Adam's departure, I received a phone call from the Michigan Dept of Natural Resources, asking if I could come in for an interview the following week. I couldn't turn it down, so we decided that Bryony, both cats and I would pack up my car and leave at the same time as Adam (aka, Plan B). And that's what we did. It was crazy and hectic and overwhelming, but I'm so glad we did it. After an entire day of the two of us packing the apartment up, Adam commented that he didn't know how I would have been able to do it by myself with a toddler running around. Plus, Adam is the master packer, so he managed to make just about everything fit, save for most of our groceries which we left for friends to pick up.
We caravaned from Killeen north to Dallas, where we stopped at a Chili's for dinner. It was surreal to know that it was our last dinner together for such a long time. I kept trying to hide my tears in my pasta dinner, and busied myself with taking pictures of Adam and Bryony as they played across the table from me. And then, dinner was over and we both needed to be on the road. My eyes were floodgates that had burst open from the pressure of rushing tears behind them. I saw Bryony looking at me with those intelligent eyes, knowing something was wrong even as I tried to smile and laugh through my tears. Adam held us both and whispered to me, "It'll be okay. Your job is to be strong for our little girl." I nodded and told him that his job was to safely come back home to both of us. So, so hard to tear myself away from him, I finally did, and weeping, got behind the wheel. We drove in tandem another ten miles before he peeled off to go east, and I kept driving northeast. Our horns blared at each other like two geese flying away in different v-formations. My guy, in his little red sports coup, went under an overpass and was gone from sight. Snapshot.
Bryony, Greg House, Holiday and I took three days to make it up to Michigan. The trip went really well overall, but for the final day when we hit a bad snowstorm in Indiana. I toyed with pulling over as I saw car after car nose-down in ditches after sliding off the road, semis jackknifed and accidents a-plenty. But, by day three, we all just wanted to be out of the car and in our own house, and we were only a five hour drive from home at that point. Long story short, I drove 40 mph the entire way, stopping as accident scenes held up traffic and allowing for bathroo breaks. Five hours turned into almost ten as holdups and slow driving stretched the trip out in front of us. But finally, we made it home at 9:45pm and it was glorious. I didn't bother to unpack anything other than the essentials for the night, and we all rested well and easily. It was so good to be home.
Adam left Georgia this past Friday. We didn't get a chance to say good-bye because his cell phone had no service in the building he was in before flying out. I fretted all of Friday from not hearing from him, checking the news to make sure there wasn't a story of something happening to his unit. I'm a worrywart, if you haven't noticed. Saturday morning at 1:00am my phone rang; I had just gone to bed a half hour earlier and was entering the haze of sleepy thoughts of him. I saw a number beginning with "011" and knew it was him, calling me from overseas. It was so good to hear his tired voice, but we only had a few minutes to talk so I whispered as many "I love you's" into the phone as I could before he had to go. I choked up as he was about to hang up and he said, "No tears, honey. It's going to be okay." He's my rock.
And now I have to be Bryony's. She's already showing some signs of reaction to this whole situation so I am only allowing myself to feel at night, when she's in bed. In her waking hours, I'm her pillar to lean on, the one who takes care of her basic needs, her emotional needs, and reminds her of who her daddy is and how very much he loves her. We kiss Daddy's photo everyday just to feel connected.
And so a long good-bye is going to turn into a long year apart, but I feel like once again, I'm in planning phase. I mean, what else can you do? Life must move on, and I had darn well better keep up. I have to be strong for Bryony, for Adam and for me. As much as I want the year to pass quickly so I can see my husband again, I don't want to wish away a year of my daughter's life. She is sure to grow and change so much and I want to capture those special moments--snapshots in time--for Adam to experience and for me to look back on. It is going to be quite a year.
It's been a tough three weeks as we planned, cried, packed, bickered, cried some more, and then moved. And then we said good-bye: to friends, to Texas, and to each other. Good-byes are always the hardest part.
Adam's unit deployed ahead of him; since he's a reservist, he had to go through deployment processing in Georgia before he could mobilize with the rest of his colleagues. I was grateful to have a few extra days with him; we spent part of that time packing, part of it making silly home movies for Bryony to watch this year, and part of it just getting lots of "hug time" in to make up for the months ahead when our arms will be devoid of each other. I cried at the most insignificant moments--when Bryony would run up to Adam's leg and hang on, laughing; when I secretly examined my handsome husband's long, lean and muscular frame, thinking of how sexy he is; when he laughed his great big Adam laugh, all toothy and dimply. I knew how hard it was going to be to give up those moments in the coming year, and so I took mental snapshots so I could have something to hold on to.
In mid-February, we attended the farewell ceremony for Adam's unit in a large gymnasium on base. Although Adam has been on two previous deployments, neither of us had ever attended anything like this since reservists don't usually get ceremonial sendoffs. This affair, however, was commonplace for active duty servicemembers and their families and I was curious to see what it would be like. I wasn't prepared. The gym was packed with soldiers in formation, their M-16s dangling at their sides, their gearpacks resting near them. Our men and women in uniform were gearing up for a year away from their country, their families, from the comforts of home. It was a humbling experience to witness. I wondered, briefly, if some of them might not make it back home. Looking out into the crowd of faces I didn't know, the thought of their sacrifice made tears glide down my face. Soon after we arrived and found seats in the bleachers, a senior non-commissioned officer got the ball rolling. He talked about how much the military appreciates the families who take care of the homefront while the troops are away, and how much he knew the year would be difficult for those of us left behind. I don't know how much weight I put in his words; like many before him, it often feels like a scripted speech when military leaders acknowledge the families. I felt bitterness bubbling up inside me when I thought about how little they truly understand what it's like to be the one left behind to handle life, to worry about your spouse, to deal with your own loneliness. Next to speak was a chaplain, whose words felt more sincere when he acknowledged that most of us attending that night were full of sadness and grief for an impending separation. I appreciated the lack of "hoo-ah!" (Army rallying call) behind the sentiment of his commiseration; he really was speaking to the families, not giving a canned pep talk. Finally, a general stood up and gave a short speech, mostly filled with call-and-repeat jargon that was meant to motivate the troops, but felt like a harsh slap to those of us who were quietly grieving. After the speeches, the troops were given thirty minutes to say goodbye to their families before boarding the bus that would take them to the airport. Adam, Bryony and I walked around, and I found myself looking down at the floor so as not to intrude upon the private family despair that was being unleashed all around me. Fathers holding crying, trembling sons and daughters who were old enough to understand; husbands and wives tearfully holding on to each other; pregnant wives who knew their husband would miss the birth of their baby; mothers leaving small children behind knowing the kids would be so different upon return. I cried silently for their pain for the pain I knew I was facing ahead. It all just seemed so unfair. Who else in America is subject to this lifestyle? Who else has to go through this, has to know how this feels? Just then my girlfriend and her family walked up, minutes away from bidding her husband good-bye. I saw the tears on my friend's face and my heart broke. She is a new friend, but a good one and I had never imagined having to see her in pain; now our grief was out for public display and we hugged, finding strength in our friendship and shared experience.
And then, the thirty minutes was over much too soon and the troops assembled in formation once more to exit the building. Those of us on the sidelines continued a sustained applause for each of them as they made their way to the busses. Soon, the gymnasium was nearly empty but for the few stragglers and those in charge of cleaning. We let Bryony run around wild, yelling and waving her arms over her head like a mad child, in utter delight. Mental snapshot.
The next couple days were a blur as Adam packed his car for the drive to Georgia and finalized administrative paperwork. The night before he left, we stayed up until 3:00 am finishing our taxes. It was like cramming for an exam the night before; we were so extremely tired but giddy at the same time. Even in the midst of extreme fatigure, my husband insisted on printing the addresses of the envelopes to the feds, state and local governments; no handwritten addressing for him! No matter what the circumstances, he believes things should always be done the "right" way. I think we didn't actually fall asleep until around 4:00 am because in our last night together, we had so many things we still wanted to talk about as we drifted off to sleep.
Plan A was that I was going to leave Texas at the end of February and either drive out to Georgia to give Adam one final sendoff, or else move up to Michigan. But then, just days before Adam's departure, I received a phone call from the Michigan Dept of Natural Resources, asking if I could come in for an interview the following week. I couldn't turn it down, so we decided that Bryony, both cats and I would pack up my car and leave at the same time as Adam (aka, Plan B). And that's what we did. It was crazy and hectic and overwhelming, but I'm so glad we did it. After an entire day of the two of us packing the apartment up, Adam commented that he didn't know how I would have been able to do it by myself with a toddler running around. Plus, Adam is the master packer, so he managed to make just about everything fit, save for most of our groceries which we left for friends to pick up.
We caravaned from Killeen north to Dallas, where we stopped at a Chili's for dinner. It was surreal to know that it was our last dinner together for such a long time. I kept trying to hide my tears in my pasta dinner, and busied myself with taking pictures of Adam and Bryony as they played across the table from me. And then, dinner was over and we both needed to be on the road. My eyes were floodgates that had burst open from the pressure of rushing tears behind them. I saw Bryony looking at me with those intelligent eyes, knowing something was wrong even as I tried to smile and laugh through my tears. Adam held us both and whispered to me, "It'll be okay. Your job is to be strong for our little girl." I nodded and told him that his job was to safely come back home to both of us. So, so hard to tear myself away from him, I finally did, and weeping, got behind the wheel. We drove in tandem another ten miles before he peeled off to go east, and I kept driving northeast. Our horns blared at each other like two geese flying away in different v-formations. My guy, in his little red sports coup, went under an overpass and was gone from sight. Snapshot.
Bryony, Greg House, Holiday and I took three days to make it up to Michigan. The trip went really well overall, but for the final day when we hit a bad snowstorm in Indiana. I toyed with pulling over as I saw car after car nose-down in ditches after sliding off the road, semis jackknifed and accidents a-plenty. But, by day three, we all just wanted to be out of the car and in our own house, and we were only a five hour drive from home at that point. Long story short, I drove 40 mph the entire way, stopping as accident scenes held up traffic and allowing for bathroo breaks. Five hours turned into almost ten as holdups and slow driving stretched the trip out in front of us. But finally, we made it home at 9:45pm and it was glorious. I didn't bother to unpack anything other than the essentials for the night, and we all rested well and easily. It was so good to be home.
Adam left Georgia this past Friday. We didn't get a chance to say good-bye because his cell phone had no service in the building he was in before flying out. I fretted all of Friday from not hearing from him, checking the news to make sure there wasn't a story of something happening to his unit. I'm a worrywart, if you haven't noticed. Saturday morning at 1:00am my phone rang; I had just gone to bed a half hour earlier and was entering the haze of sleepy thoughts of him. I saw a number beginning with "011" and knew it was him, calling me from overseas. It was so good to hear his tired voice, but we only had a few minutes to talk so I whispered as many "I love you's" into the phone as I could before he had to go. I choked up as he was about to hang up and he said, "No tears, honey. It's going to be okay." He's my rock.
And now I have to be Bryony's. She's already showing some signs of reaction to this whole situation so I am only allowing myself to feel at night, when she's in bed. In her waking hours, I'm her pillar to lean on, the one who takes care of her basic needs, her emotional needs, and reminds her of who her daddy is and how very much he loves her. We kiss Daddy's photo everyday just to feel connected.
And so a long good-bye is going to turn into a long year apart, but I feel like once again, I'm in planning phase. I mean, what else can you do? Life must move on, and I had darn well better keep up. I have to be strong for Bryony, for Adam and for me. As much as I want the year to pass quickly so I can see my husband again, I don't want to wish away a year of my daughter's life. She is sure to grow and change so much and I want to capture those special moments--snapshots in time--for Adam to experience and for me to look back on. It is going to be quite a year.
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