When My Husband is about to leave for extended periods of time I get slightly psycho about cleaning. I never really understood why...I assumed it's about controlling something to make me feel better about the fact I can't control his time away from home.
This morning I figured out the real reason.
My Husband is gone for the next few days...overnight in the field doing training exercises. He left this morning about 4:30am, kissing me goodbye in the dark of our bedroom while I was still half asleep.
When I came home from my shift at the shelter a few hours later, the first thing I saw walking through the door were his running shoes...tossed at the base of the couch where he left them yesterday after returning from his track workout.
I can't really put into words the feeling of seeing something he touched a few hours ago and knowing he won't touch it again for days. It's just this huge reminder that he's gone and he won't be back for awhile.
This, of course, makes me think about how I would feel seeing those running shoes and knowing he'll never touch them again because he's dead.
Do all soldier's wives have death in the forefront of their minds like I do, or does my depression predispose me to dark thoughts like these?
So before he leaves I clean like a maniac so that everything is in its proper place...and most importantly, anything that belongs to My Husband is tucked safely out of sight until he returns and has some use for it. I stow away the physical reminders of his absence the way I ignore the truth of the dangerous nature of his job. Until I have a weak moment and those dismal thoughts, always hovering somewhere just out of consciousness, strike home.
I think I'll go to the gym and tire myself out so much that I can't think anymore.
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Monday, June 6, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Osama bin Laden is Still Dead
Buoy and I are exhausted. Last night while perusing the Internet about 9pm Central Time, I read on my homepage (CNN.com) the president was going to make a very important announcement from the White House in about a half an hour.
Now, any Army wife will tell you when the president makes an unscheduled announcement late night on a Sunday, it's usually a bad thing. Well, it may not be a "bad" thing, but it's definitely something that directly affects you. My Husband and I waited patiently for the president's speech and we speculated what this "dramatic national security event having nothing to do with Libya," as Wolf Blitzer said, could be. I thought Joe Biden died and that's why so many people had to be notified before Mr. Obama could come on the air.
As the specified time for the announcement came and went, the producers at CNN decided to break the news the president would later elaborate on...Osama bin Laden was dead. A group of special ops and/or Navy SEALS (I've heard both) entered the mansion where he's been hiding for what may have been years and shot it up for about 40 minutes. A woman attempted to shield bin Laden and was shot. His 19-year-old-son was shot. Apparently the soldiers offered bin Laden a chance to surrender; he refused and opened fire with an automatic weapon (this I'm not entirely sure of...I wouldn't fault the soldiers for shooting an unarmed fugitive, but I know why they're saying it if it's not true). The soldiers shot him at least once in the head.
They recovered his body after another woman at the compound concurred it was bin Laden. Taking it to a US ship, they proceeded to positively confirm his identity with DNA (Huh. Kinda wish police stations had that kind of technology for rape kits). Osama bin Laden was then given a "proper Muslim burial at sea." I don't know about that part either, but at this point I'm pleased enough with the success of the mission and the lack of American casualties that I don't care about white lies like the government keeping a terrorist's body.
I wept with relief as I watched people gather in front of the White House to celebrate. I texted almost everyone in my phone contacts and made My Husband call his mom. I wanted to shout the news from our balcony; I wanted to knock on every door in the building. I like the fact that so many of my peers heard the news first from me. It stems from some journalistic spark still burning inside me, I guess.
And so the conversation turns to what will come next. I'm sure terrorism will continue...in fact I think it will get worse before it gets better. But considering the amount of information the soldiers recovered from the compound (if it was safe enough to hide bin Laden just think about the records kept there as well) and the rage stemming from the murder of their leader, I hope people will get sloppy enough to get caught.
I'm trying not to get too excited, but this could mean the end of our deployments. No Afghanistan...please God, no Afghanistan.
But life continues. My Husband left about 3am for a week of overnight field exercises. May and June are full of field exercises for us. He'll have weekends off, for what that's worth.
We stayed up all night last night watching the coverage of bin Laden's death. The celebrations reminded me of some of the video from September 11 when Islamic fundamentalists passed out candy in the streets, danced, sang and shouted with joy at our destruction. Life is very strange right about now.
So Buoy and I spent today schlepping around after I got home from my shift at the shelter, attempting to recover from an exceptionally emotional weekend. I've never cried so much about complete strangers, both good and evil events, in my entire life.
Now, any Army wife will tell you when the president makes an unscheduled announcement late night on a Sunday, it's usually a bad thing. Well, it may not be a "bad" thing, but it's definitely something that directly affects you. My Husband and I waited patiently for the president's speech and we speculated what this "dramatic national security event having nothing to do with Libya," as Wolf Blitzer said, could be. I thought Joe Biden died and that's why so many people had to be notified before Mr. Obama could come on the air.
As the specified time for the announcement came and went, the producers at CNN decided to break the news the president would later elaborate on...Osama bin Laden was dead. A group of special ops and/or Navy SEALS (I've heard both) entered the mansion where he's been hiding for what may have been years and shot it up for about 40 minutes. A woman attempted to shield bin Laden and was shot. His 19-year-old-son was shot. Apparently the soldiers offered bin Laden a chance to surrender; he refused and opened fire with an automatic weapon (this I'm not entirely sure of...I wouldn't fault the soldiers for shooting an unarmed fugitive, but I know why they're saying it if it's not true). The soldiers shot him at least once in the head.
They recovered his body after another woman at the compound concurred it was bin Laden. Taking it to a US ship, they proceeded to positively confirm his identity with DNA (Huh. Kinda wish police stations had that kind of technology for rape kits). Osama bin Laden was then given a "proper Muslim burial at sea." I don't know about that part either, but at this point I'm pleased enough with the success of the mission and the lack of American casualties that I don't care about white lies like the government keeping a terrorist's body.
I wept with relief as I watched people gather in front of the White House to celebrate. I texted almost everyone in my phone contacts and made My Husband call his mom. I wanted to shout the news from our balcony; I wanted to knock on every door in the building. I like the fact that so many of my peers heard the news first from me. It stems from some journalistic spark still burning inside me, I guess.
And so the conversation turns to what will come next. I'm sure terrorism will continue...in fact I think it will get worse before it gets better. But considering the amount of information the soldiers recovered from the compound (if it was safe enough to hide bin Laden just think about the records kept there as well) and the rage stemming from the murder of their leader, I hope people will get sloppy enough to get caught.
I'm trying not to get too excited, but this could mean the end of our deployments. No Afghanistan...please God, no Afghanistan.
But life continues. My Husband left about 3am for a week of overnight field exercises. May and June are full of field exercises for us. He'll have weekends off, for what that's worth.
We stayed up all night last night watching the coverage of bin Laden's death. The celebrations reminded me of some of the video from September 11 when Islamic fundamentalists passed out candy in the streets, danced, sang and shouted with joy at our destruction. Life is very strange right about now.
So Buoy and I spent today schlepping around after I got home from my shift at the shelter, attempting to recover from an exceptionally emotional weekend. I've never cried so much about complete strangers, both good and evil events, in my entire life.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
OSAMA BIN LADEN IS DEAD
I have no words of my own so I'll have to give you words belonging to others.
Osama bin Laden, the leader and symbol of Al-Qaeda, is dead.
A small, elite United States CIA operation killed him during a firefight in a mansion outside of Islamabad, Pakistan.
He's dead. The leader of those who scarred my existence and destined my marriage for separation is dead. It's a justice I never thought would come to pass. As CNN broadcasted the Breaking News the president would speak on an important event in United States security over an hour ago I never dreamed it was this.
Oh God in Heaven. Oh gracious Father. I can't speak the words I know I should be able to express.
My Husband says this must be why General David Petraeus has been given the job as the head of the CIA. He did this; he arranged this. I want to name my first son after him.
Pakistan knew. Of course they knew. But it doesn't matter now. I don't care. Osama bin Laden is dead. It's over. Please God, let it be over for us all.
Tell everyone you know. Wake up your children, shout it from your windows. I haven't stopped crying since I heard the news.
Osama bin Laden is dead!
Osama bin Laden, the leader and symbol of Al-Qaeda, is dead.
A small, elite United States CIA operation killed him during a firefight in a mansion outside of Islamabad, Pakistan.
He's dead. The leader of those who scarred my existence and destined my marriage for separation is dead. It's a justice I never thought would come to pass. As CNN broadcasted the Breaking News the president would speak on an important event in United States security over an hour ago I never dreamed it was this.
Oh God in Heaven. Oh gracious Father. I can't speak the words I know I should be able to express.
My Husband says this must be why General David Petraeus has been given the job as the head of the CIA. He did this; he arranged this. I want to name my first son after him.
Pakistan knew. Of course they knew. But it doesn't matter now. I don't care. Osama bin Laden is dead. It's over. Please God, let it be over for us all.
Tell everyone you know. Wake up your children, shout it from your windows. I haven't stopped crying since I heard the news.
Osama bin Laden is dead!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Bad News
Our latest piece of news...My Husband's best friend and college roommate's dad has been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. The doctors pretty much told him he can have six months or less without chemotherapy and maybe a year with it.
As if that doesn't suck enough, said roommate is getting married on Memorial Day weekend. So basically that could be the last time their entire family gets together. And of course, now the wedding isn't really about the couple anymore. Every happy event in the next few years (his sister's wedding, their first baby, etc.) is gonna be marred by the fact his dad is gone.
I'm so sad for them in this entire situation. And it makes me think about losing My Husband. It doesn't take much to make me think about losing My Husband, what with the line of work he's in, but this definitely does it.
And because I wouldn't be me without that selfish little voice in the back of my head, I'm disappointed the wedding has taken on an entirely different tone. This is my first non-family wedding and my first with My Husband (minus our own). And I have to tell you, our wedding wasn't all wine and roses.
The pressure for perfection was intense. My father continually lamented how much it was costing him and screamed at me regularly to vent his frustration. My sisters were only sporadically involved, being busy with their own lives. My mother continually reminded me to be grateful. My parents invited a married couple to the wedding in exchange for them re-sodding the front lawn. My Husband was gone all day Friday and late for the rehearsal dinner because of his second bachelor party in Boston the Thursday night. He was late for the ceremony Saturday afternoon because his older brother took 90 minutes to get ready and then stopped to fill his empty gas tank before taking the wrong highway to the church. And a million other little things.
So I was excited for this wedding...I had no worries, I new exactly how to be helpful to the bride, groom and their families and there was absolutely no pressure. Sweet deal. Now that's all gone and I have no idea how to act when we get there.
Besides that, I feel terrible for the bride because she isn't the focus of her own wedding day and she's got a way better reason for it than I ever did. I want to write her a letter or something...let her know I know she'll be worried about her fiance and his family, but that it's OK to take a few minutes to say, "This is about me and my husband-to-be." I don't want her to start off her marriage with resentment.
But then again, that may be crossing a boundary. I've only met her once, and I've only met My Husband's roommate and handful more times. So maybe I should just mind my own business. As empathetic as I am to the situation, I don't know what it's like to watch your father and father-in-law die in the months just after your wedding and I don't want to be...what's a good word? Nosy? Pushy? Opinionated?
Thinking about this makes my head hurt.
As if that doesn't suck enough, said roommate is getting married on Memorial Day weekend. So basically that could be the last time their entire family gets together. And of course, now the wedding isn't really about the couple anymore. Every happy event in the next few years (his sister's wedding, their first baby, etc.) is gonna be marred by the fact his dad is gone.
I'm so sad for them in this entire situation. And it makes me think about losing My Husband. It doesn't take much to make me think about losing My Husband, what with the line of work he's in, but this definitely does it.
And because I wouldn't be me without that selfish little voice in the back of my head, I'm disappointed the wedding has taken on an entirely different tone. This is my first non-family wedding and my first with My Husband (minus our own). And I have to tell you, our wedding wasn't all wine and roses.
The pressure for perfection was intense. My father continually lamented how much it was costing him and screamed at me regularly to vent his frustration. My sisters were only sporadically involved, being busy with their own lives. My mother continually reminded me to be grateful. My parents invited a married couple to the wedding in exchange for them re-sodding the front lawn. My Husband was gone all day Friday and late for the rehearsal dinner because of his second bachelor party in Boston the Thursday night. He was late for the ceremony Saturday afternoon because his older brother took 90 minutes to get ready and then stopped to fill his empty gas tank before taking the wrong highway to the church. And a million other little things.
So I was excited for this wedding...I had no worries, I new exactly how to be helpful to the bride, groom and their families and there was absolutely no pressure. Sweet deal. Now that's all gone and I have no idea how to act when we get there.
Besides that, I feel terrible for the bride because she isn't the focus of her own wedding day and she's got a way better reason for it than I ever did. I want to write her a letter or something...let her know I know she'll be worried about her fiance and his family, but that it's OK to take a few minutes to say, "This is about me and my husband-to-be." I don't want her to start off her marriage with resentment.
But then again, that may be crossing a boundary. I've only met her once, and I've only met My Husband's roommate and handful more times. So maybe I should just mind my own business. As empathetic as I am to the situation, I don't know what it's like to watch your father and father-in-law die in the months just after your wedding and I don't want to be...what's a good word? Nosy? Pushy? Opinionated?
Thinking about this makes my head hurt.
Monday, March 7, 2011
The Strange Case of Carlos Estevez
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| Courtesy of http://www.vchannelnews.com/ |
Most of us know "Carlos Estevez" as Charlie Sheen, the actor who is currently dominating all of the entertainment/gossip media outlets with Napoleonic zeal. I was laying in bed last night listening to My Husband snore and I came up with a Charlie Sheen theory.
Don't get agitated, it's just a theory. It's something to engage my brain when I can't sleep and it's your bad luck I'm capable of typing it up and posting it on the Internet for the world (or my current 12 viewers...10 from the United States, 1 from China and 1 from Singapore, hey guys!) to see.
I think Charlie Sheen is dying. I think his foray to the hospital for severe abdominal pain a few months ago resulted in some terminal test results. I think Sheen's long history of abusing recreational drugs and alcohol have caused a number of chronic conditions and culminated in pancreatic cancer.
So he gets this diagnosis and has himself a little reflection time. He thinks about the survival rate for pancreatic cancer, the effects of chemo and the media coverage of Farrah Fawcett and Patrick Swayze's recent demises and deaths. And honestly, I think he decided, "Fuck it. I've got months to live and I'm gonna live them exactly how I want to. I'm gonna say what I want, do what I want, live with a mini-harem and get my face on camera whenever I have the chance. I'm not gonna keep going to a job where I hate the people. I'm gonna suit myself."
I think the guy is James Deaning-it...living fast and dying how he wants to. Not emaciated or bloated from futile radiation treatment. Not in a hospital bed where he's too weak to get himself to the bathroom. Not in rehab ruminating with a counselor about his many addictions and tormented with withdrawal symptoms. He wants to be in his house: drunk, stoned or having sex with people who know EXACTLY what they're doing.
He doesn't want to be pitied or fawned over or reminisced with. Charlie Sheen doesn't want to linger and say anguished goodbyes. He wants to sear himself into our memories as a shining example of talent and passion that flashes white-hot and burns out quickly.
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| Courtesy of http://www.taramtamtam.com/ |
Maybe it's a still a secret because his doctor can't legally give interviews about his condition (doctor/patient confidentiality). Maybe that's why he looks so pallid and skinny. Maybe Denise Richards knows and that's why she's been so supportive. Maybe Brooke Mueller doesn't and that's why she hasn't. Maybe that's why Martin Sheen referred to his son's addictions as a "cancer." Maybe Charlie doesn't want to work because he's got a kickass life insurance policy that will provide for his five children the rest of their lives.
Am I projecting a Shakespearean attitude or a tragic Greek eloquence on a guy who may just have Swiss-cheese-crazy-brain from cocaine and booze? Possibly. Sheen could also be another Hollywood asshole who's cashing in on his notoriety Spencer Pratt-style. But I like my Charlie better. And I think he would, too.
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