countdown

On the day that TED left L and I decorated his very own jar and carefully counted out M&M's, one for each day Daddy would be gone, with a few extra thrown in just to make sure we wouldn't run out before the jets pulled back onto the line.

Yesterday as L picked his M&M for the day he looked into the jar and announced that there weren't very many left and that Dad will be home very soon.

We have made it to January, homecoming month! TED will be home very soon and we are getting so very excited. We still don't have an exact date but we are praying that the days go quickly, the squadron replacing them is timely, the jets are healthy and that we don't run out of M&M's!

pick up

Almost eight years ago I stepped off of an airplane late on a Friday night and met my fiance, now husband, in the waiting area. He was standing behind a pillar towards the back of the open room, the same pillar he stood behind each time he met me for a too short visit. He greeted me with the same loving smile and hug he always did. The familiarity conitnued as we headed out to the car. I scanned the parking lot and could not find his car. I searched and searched as he walked confidently through the darkened lot. Before I knew it, he was stopped in front of a very large pick up truck.

He didn't. Oh, but he did. And there it was. A huge diesel pick-up truck. 

Now, as a girl raised in New Jersey I could count on one hand the number of times I had been in a truck. I was embarassed to climb into such a big vehicle and felt out of place. This was so unfamiliar to me. It was so big, and loud, and just different. Different from anything I had ever known.

I remember that ride home from the airport like it was yesterday. TED felt so far away sitting on the other side of this huge vehicle. When I told him how far away I felt he told me to scoot closer and ride "redneck". Needless to say, I was clueless but scooted over and smiled at this man I loved so much who was so at home in this truck. It was a part of him already, he just belonged.

With each trip I became more familiar and more comfortable, not with the truck, but with all that it stood for. It was a representation of this man I have chosen to walk through life with. It wasn't showy, definitely loud, but not showy. It was strong and protective, just like him.

Today, I find myself drawn to the white truck sitting in my driveway. It is a piece of my man. A quiet representation of so much. I find excuses to drive it. I strap car seats in to the back and comfortably take the wheel of this truck. Me in a truck.... without hesitation... by choice. I love sitting in that truck. It is my time with him, even when he isn't here.

tick tock

TED leaves in about two weeks.

That thought hangs in the air no matter where I go. The ticking clock. It doesn't matter where we go or what we do the time is getting closer. It is the same clock we have known before but it always seems different. I forget about it, pretend it isn't part of our world until the time comes when the ticking can not be ignored.

I was talking to a good friend, who's husband will be deploying with Mike, this morning and as we lamented the upcoming send off we both kept returning to the same point... more than anything we are just going to miss seeing and being with them. The rest will come. The kids will continue to grow, we will stay busy, we will survive sometimes even thrive but the missing piece will loom in the background.

That is the hardest part to explain to someone who has never gone through a deployment. The missing piece, the emptiness. The moments on the couch where he make fun of your choice of TV show. The smile that spreads across his face when the kids greet him after a day of work. Just having him here. Nothing really prepares you for it and no matter how many deployments you go through it never gets easier.


Nothing will stop that ticking clock so we will stay busy and enjoy every moment. I will store every smile, every hug, each moment we have until time runs out and a new clock takes it's place. The one that brings him back to us.

That clock is my favorite one of all.

Countdown neurosis

In the interest of fairness and honesty I must confess that the ticker at the top is not when I will actually see TED. It is when he will begin his journey back to the United States. His team's journey will be filled with multiple stops that are, of course, top secret. I don't know how many there will be or how many days each will consume. I do know that in six days my husband will be getting the hell out of dodge, as he likes to say. In six days I won't have to worry about him being wounded or worse. He will be (for the most part) extremely safe. I must also say that I do know about when he will be back into the base he deployed from (hint: it is in the single digits).

And now free of coherent transitions and thoughtful segways here are some of the things I have been wanting to post about but haven't gotten around to it..

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I have purchased so many different pieces of clothing for the homecoming that it is bordering on absurd. I have something for if it is hot/cold/freezing/sort of warm/sunny/rainy/morning/noon/ middle of the night. What is particularly alarming about this is I have these combos for both LM and myself. That makes for a lot of luggage- and yes, I know that it doesn't really actually matter what I am wearing but that is SOOO not the point. Factor in the two weeks worth of clothes we will need while he finishes the Warrior Transition Program, the clothes we needed to bring for 3M's return to the land of civi's, the toys, pack and play, and seventy pound footlocker we have to bring with us and I might as well rent a U-Haul. I can't shake the vision of the Beverly Hillbillies arriving to town for the first time.

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In a bit of horrendously annoying indecisiveness I emailed the amazing Whoorl because I could not figure out what to do with my hair. It is currently quite long and I have been toying with the idea of cutting it for so long, talking about it so much and changing my mind so frequently that my closest friends and family REFUSE to discuss it with me anymore. Amazingly, Whoorl agreed to help (sorry for the super close up shot of my large nose and unwaxed eyebrows (note to self: when submitting pictures of yourself they should probably be half-way decent)). Needless to say I was thrilled when she and so many of her wonderful readers (thank you by the way for commenting and stopping by) told me 1) that I had nice hair (it was a they like me, they really like me moment for sure!) and 2) that I should leave it long and bust out the curling iron. Thank goodness for Whoorl and Hair Thursday's. My hair and all of my friends thank you :)

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If one more person says "are you so excited that your husband will be coming home soon" to me I think I may smack them. Now, before everyone thinks that I am a horrible, heartless person I must admit that if I were in their shoes I would most likely say the same thing AND I totally understand where they are coming from; it is a natural and reasonable question. In fact, it is so natural and reasonable that I believe I have answered "Yes, I can't wait" 584269723017832580 times since last week. I am so unbelievably tired of that question. Just once I want to say "Actually not really, it is going to substantially cut into the time I spend with my boyfriend and that bums me out". That of course, would be totally inappropriate but the looks I would get would be priceless and 3M would totally think it was hysterical.

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Because I am partially insane I have decided to attempt a post about the things I have learned over the past year of this deployment. I am striving for 100 things and I think I may actually be able to complete it. My goal is to have it up by next Sunday. I can't promise that it will be funny or poignant but it will be honest. I hope that someone, somewhere will be able to laugh or cry along as I try to enumerate the countless emotions and experiences that have marked the past 365 days.

Footlocker

As we approached home this afternoon I checked the front door to see if a small package had been delivered from UPS. I quickly learned that there was something else at my door. A large green footlocker with an airbill and customs forms straight from Iraq. There it sat, proof that this is almost over; TED is almost home. Soon there will be no more packages, no more emails, no more phone calls, and sleepless nights. Soon we will again be a family. This glorious box in all of it's ugliness and heaviness was the best thing I have seen in a long time.

I can hardly believe that it has almost been a year. We have gone 332 days in this deployment. Just writing that is unbelievable. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime, others like a flash. The green footlocker sitting in my foyer is proof that we are almost safe, that my prayers are almost answered that my hero will be making his way home soon.

Where's Waldo- 3M edition

Some gave all

Several months ago I posted about 1stLt. Travis Manion who worked alongside 3M in Iraq.Travis was killed by a sniper just minutes before 3M was to get on a helicopter and depart for 3 days of R&R in Qatar.

I vividly remember talking to 3M, on that day, and being excited for him that he would have the chance to get away and relax. Yet the response I received was very distant and unsettling. I didn't know about the attack and Travis' death. 3M hadn't shared but it was weighing heavily on his mind. After finally relaying the unfortunate events 3M immediately told me what a Great American Travis was and how it was an honor to serve with him.

I later came to find out that because of the help Travis provided on the day 3M was attacked and injured in Fallujah I am able to hear my husband's voice and countdown the days until his return. Beacuse of his brave and selfless acts our son will have the opportunity to grow-up under the watchful eyes of his father.

I am forever indebted to Travis and all of the Marines my husband serves with.

Bill from InDCJournal, posted a moving tribute to Travis that is remarkably touching and unbelievably heart-breaking. Please take a minute and read it.

Rest in Peace, 1stLt. Travis Manion

Forever changed

Six years ago today I was a bright-eyed and slight overwhelmed, 21 year old PE teacher about to begin the seventh day of her first real job. My class was awaiting instructions when one of my co-workers came in and quietly whispered in my ear, there was an accident- a plane flew into one of the Trade Center buildings.

I tried to hide my cringe because I was teaching less than one-hour from New York City. My father's business was largely conducted in NYC and he often spent time in these towers, though I knew he was not there this day. As I gave instructions I wondered what had happened and hoped no one I knew was involved.As the lesson continued there was another message, it was bad.

We couldn't have known how bad it truly was going to be.

When my class was over I returned to the office I shared with three other teachers. We turned on the radio and instantaneously heard, a second plane has flown into the Trade Center; both towers have been hit. We all stood silent and shocked; then immediately turned off the radio. This was not news fifty middle-school girls should be hearing as they got changed to resume their day.

We pretended. We went about our day in stunned shock. The towers had fallen, the pentagon had been hit, and there was a plane down in a Pennsylvania field; many were missing, even more had been killed. Parents flocked to the school and pulled their children out fearing the worst was occurring. Students began to question what was going on; I could not answer. I so badly wanted to answer but, alas it was not my place. How could I; someone who barely considered herself an adult, explain to these children what had happened. I didn't understand it myself.

The day was over and we all rushed home. I sat glued to the television not able to understand why all of this had happened. I didn't have any students who lost parents but their grief and sorrow was still immeasuarable.

They had just learned that their world would be forever changed.

~~~~~

I did not know TED on September 11, 2001 but I did know one of his friends. TED's friend Brad was dating one of the girls I shared an office with and I remember her coming in to work the next day telling me that the squadron the guys were in may be headed, to the fight. At the time I was so upset for her. How hard it must be, how scared she must feel. I didn't understand what loving someone in the military was about. I couldn't grasp that fear.

Little did I know that I would have all to good of an understanding.

~~~~~

On September 11, 2006 TED began his MiTT training in preparation for his deployment to Iraq. It was the first day of a very long 15 months. He was preparing to go to the fight; I was scared.

This time TED wouldn't be in a jet, he would be on the ground- in one of the most dangerous cities in all of Iraq. He would be fulfilling a mission I didn't completely understand but knew was extremely risky. I didn't know what was going to happen. I didn't know how to react.

I spent the day thinking of my students; those young faces who began their day, five years ago, carefree and by its conclusion were forever changed.

I truly understood how they were feeling on that morning. I felt as if I would never be the same. What if this was the beginning of the end of our fairy tale? What if this mission was too dangerous? Would my life still be my own this time next year?

I could not bear to think about 365 days from September 11th because I was so unspeakably terrified that my world would be forever different.

~~~~~

September 11, 2007 began with a "mama?" from my little man. He was awake and ready to start the day. He did not know that so many would be grieving on this day. He doesn't remember that his Daddy was not here this time last year. He wanted to smile and play with his dogs. His world had not changed at all ; it was the same wonderful adventure as it had been the day before.

We have made it 365 days. We have survived the training, the hotels, the tears, the laughters, the attack, and the triumphs. We are still here. We have begun our countdown and I finally feel like I can truly move forward without being fearful of changes that life may bring.

Undoubtedly my life was forever changed on September 11, 2001 and again on September 11, 2006. I have learned to be stronger, love harder, and believe that no matter where this road takes us or how this journey unfolds, forever changed is not always a bad thing. Forever changed means there is still time to begin again- to learn, to grow, to love.

Forever changed

Six years ago today I was a bright-eyed and slight overwhelmed, 21 year old PE teacher about to begin the seventh day of her first real job. My class was awaiting instructions when one of my co-workers came in and quietly whispered in my ear, there was an accident- a plane flew into one of the Trade Center buildings.

I tried to hide my cringe because I was teaching less than one-hour from New York City. My father's business was largely conducted in NYC and he often spent time in these towers, though I knew he was not there this day. As I gave instructions I wondered what had happened and hoped no one I knew was involved.As the lesson continued there was another message, it was bad.

We couldn't have known how bad it truly was going to be.

When my class was over I returned to the office I shared with three other teachers. We turned on the radio and instantaneously heard, a second plane has flown into the Trade Center; both towers have been hit. We all stood silent and shocked; then immediately turned off the radio. This was not news fifty middle-school girls should be hearing as they got changed to resume their day.

We pretended. We went about our day in stunned shock. The towers had fallen, the pentagon had been hit, and there was a plane down in a Pennsylvania field; many were missing, even more had been killed. Parents flocked to the school and pulled their children out fearing the worst was occurring. Students began to question what was going on; I could not answer. I so badly wanted to answer but, alas it was not my place. How could I; someone who barely considered herself an adult, explain to these children what had happened. I didn't understand it myself.

The day was over and we all rushed home. I sat glued to the television not able to understand why all of this had happened. I didn't have any students who lost parents but their grief and sorrow was still immeasuarable.

They had just learned that their world would be forever changed.

~~~~~

I did not know TED on September 11, 2001 but I did know one of his friends. TED's friend Brad was dating one of the girls I shared an office with and I remember her coming in to work the next day telling me that the squadron the guys were in may be headed, to the fight. At the time I was so upset for her. How hard it must be, how scared she must feel. I didn't understand what loving someone in the military was about. I couldn't grasp that fear.

Little did I know that I would have all to good of an understanding.

~~~~~

On September 11, 2006 TED began his MiTT training in preparation for his deployment to Iraq. It was the first day of a very long 15 months. He was preparing to go to the fight; I was scared.

This time TED wouldn't be in a jet, he would be on the ground- in one of the most dangerous cities in all of Iraq. He would be fulfilling a mission I didn't completely understand but knew was extremely risky. I didn't know what was going to happen. I didn't know how to react.

I spent the day thinking of my students; those young faces who began their day, five years ago, carefree and by its conclusion were forever changed.

I truly understood how they were feeling on that morning. I felt as if I would never be the same. What if this was the beginning of the end of our fairy tale? What if this mission was too dangerous? Would my life still be my own this time next year?

I could not bear to think about 365 days from September 11th because I was so unspeakably terrified that my world would be forever different.

~~~~~

September 11, 2007 began with a "mama?" from my little man. He was awake and ready to start the day. He did not know that so many would be grieving on this day. He doesn't remember that his Daddy was not here this time last year. He wanted to smile and play with his dogs. His world had not changed at all ; it was the same wonderful adventure as it had been the day before.

We have made it 365 days. We have survived the training, the hotels, the tears, the laughters, the attack, and the triumphs. We are still here. We have begun our countdown and I finally feel like I can truly move forward without being fearful of changes that life may bring.

Undoubtedly my life was forever changed on September 11, 2001 and again on September 11, 2006. I have learned to be stronger, love harder, and believe that no matter where this road takes us or how this journey unfolds, forever changed is not always a bad thing. Forever changed means there is still time to begin again- to learn, to grow, to love.

For Sale?

When 3M returns from Iraq we will be PCS'ing. Since we found out that we would quickly be departing after his return and we know that the real estate market here is terrible we agreed to put the house up for sale when 3M comes home on leave at the beginning of July. We both talked about this decision and the only concern he and I had was about the price we would be able to sell at because of the terrible market.

Today I began my "get the house ready to sell" cleaning. I took a break from the cleaning so LM and I could go to Gymboree and on the way home I had a mini-meltdown.

I realized that I don't want to put the house on the market when 3M comes home on leave. I am afraid that the house will sell and if heaven-forbid anything should happen to him I won't have our home. I won't have the place where we started our life as husband and wife. The home we painted, tiled, decorated and furnished. The place where we started our family. The place where I cried on the floor when I found out he was leaving. The place where he came home to and told me about his day.

This home is part of our family and I have never been happier in any place. I can't help but feeling that I need to hold onto it if the unimaginable occurs. I can not bear the thought of not having this house if something happens. Is this rational?

I know that choosing whether or not to put the house up for sale is a huge deal. The market here is slow; houses are sitting for longer periods of time. Yet, I can't help but feel like if we put it on the market in July it will sell quickly but if we wait it won't sell for quite sometime. Keeping the house will not kill us; it will significantly lower our spending ability; we could swing it but it definitely is not preferable.

I don't know what to do. All I do know is that right now the thought of not having our home is really upsetting me.

Do you have any advice, dear Internet?

The Week of Milestones.. Part Two

Originally posted March 30, 2007

On Wednesday I got a call I hoped would never come; 3M had been injured as a result of a Suicide-Vehicle Bourne IED. He is okay and has already been released from the hospital. It is still too fresh to really talk about, I don't think my thoughts and feelings would be anywhere near logical but suffice it to say I am so incredibly thankful that he and the members of his team were not seriously hurt. There are so many families (too many) of our brave men and women who don't get to hear from their husbands that something terrible has happened but they are okay, so I feel so fortunate to have been able to hear 3M's voice and know that things are going to be alright.

Here is the story of the attack from the journalist who was embedded with them. Thank you Bill, for sharing the stories of our brave Marines during this difficult time!

Please keep 3M and his team in your thoughts and prayers.

I am a firm believer that lightning rarely strikes twice.
************************************************************************************
Two Months later....

The 28th marked two months since the morning when I received the phone call from 3M. I haven't talked or written much about the attack and his injuries because it somehow feels like it never happened if I don't think about it or talk about it. But it did happen.

3/26/07- 3M told me that he was going on an extended mission and would not be in contact for several days. He assured me what he was doing was "no big deal" but he would not be by the computer or phone for a few days.

3/28/07
At 0920 I put LM down for his nap and heard my cellphone ringing. I ran to get the phone and heard 3M's voice on the other end. I thought it was strange that he was calling and he didn't sound right. I immediately panicked and started asking him over and over is he was okay and if something was wrong. There was a lot of noise in the background. 3M told me that he was just fine but something big happened where he is in Iraq and I might see things on the news. He told me not to worry about it because he was fine. He has said that sentence to me several times before so it calmed my fears- a little. He then asked how our LM was, told me he loved me and said he had to go.

I knew something was wrong, something just didn't sound right. I called my Mom and told her about the "weird phone call" and then googled to find the story he was talking about. It didn't take long to find out about the attack on the government center. I was sure this was what he was talking about but had the feeling that if something was wrong he would have told me.

LM woke up from his nap and my worries were sidelined by our little boy's need to eat and play. He and I went about our day until the phone rang again. This time it was another wife from 3M's team. She was calling to see how I was. How I was??

And then it hit me...

I was right, something had happened. The poor wife told me what she knew since she was the KV who had been told everyone had notified their spouses and referred me to the local Family Resource Officer (a Marine tasked with most things family related including notification of injuries of fellow Marines). He told me what he knew and apologized profusely. Apparently 3M was adamant that no one call his wife, he would take care of it. They didn't know that he didn't tell me. I didn't know what to do.

So there I sat. I didn't cry. I was mad. Actually, I was furious. How could he keep this from me? Why would he not tell me that he had been hurt? Didn't he think I wouldn't find out? Did he not think I was strong enough to handle the truth? I played the scenario over and over in my head. Did I miss something he said? Was he really alright? He sounded alright. What did I miss?

Slowly my anger turned to fear. I realized it was easier to be angry. If I was angry I didn't have to process how unbelievably terrified I was. Then the tears came.

3M was finally able to call and told me what had happened and explained why he didn't originally tell me what had occurred. I was never happier to hear his voice and confirm that he was alright.

On the morning of the attack, 3M and 5 of his teammates where sleeping in their temporary room. This place was in the center of town. At 0600 a Suicide vehicle bourne improvised explosive device (SVBIED) was detonated at the front gate of the compound. They awoke to the sound of the explosion and mortar fire. They decided to get up and get dressed, just in case, and that is when it happened. A second SVBIED detonated just feet from their room sending the concrete wall of their room in on them.



The SVBIED contained a chlorine gas. They didn't have their gear on, they couldn't see, the gas was so thick. 3M told me later, that he initially followed light to what he thought was the way out. When he got there he realized it was the back of the building where the explosion had occurred. He would have to go back and find another way out. He was worried, he thought maybe something bad would happen or he wouldn't make it out. Hearing him say that was the hardest thing I have ever heard. My Marine, who makes light of so many things, was scared. I could have lost him.

He found his way out. Actually, he helped two other Marines out of the building and then established cover so that two of his teammates could go back into the building and get his roommate, who did not make it out because of some more serious injuries. After several hours of fighting without shoes and through sickness, 3M was finally medivac'd out to Balad.

When he arrived in Balad he was handed a phone. As they stripped him of his clothes, inserted IV's, poked and prodded he was on the phone with me. That was the background noise, that was the source of the strange sounds.

Thankfully, he is okay. He spent several days in the hospital, receiving breathing treatments, recovering from his concussion, and healing the avulsion on his foot (from fighting without shoes for several hours). He returned to work and is doing much better.

I was so scared. I kept telling myself that lightning rarely strikes twice. The stupid line I kept telling myself in order to forget how dangerous 3M's job truly is.

Last Tuesday, 3M went on his first extended mission since his injuries. When he told me my heart hit the floor. Not again.

LM's birthday kept me busy on the first day and Mom's return home occupied the second day but my stomach was in knots. There was a Suicide bombing at a Iraqi Police recruitment center in the town where 3M is stationed. Not again, I kept telling myself. Not again.

At 0345 on the third day my phone rang. 3M was safely back inside the wire. He was on scene for the bombing but military was injured. Thank God.

Never in my life did I think that I would be faced with the stone cold reality of 3M's job. I always knew there was danger but I tried not to think of it. I refer to the attack as "the incident". I talk about him "being at work". I live in denial but it is the only way I can continue. I can't bear to think that I might lose him. I can't fathom LM not having his Dad teach him how to ride a bike, drive a car, or simply watch him turn into his own little person.

Even after explaining what happened I still can't accurately put into words how I feel about the attack, his injuries, and how terrified I am that I could lose my husband. No words can describe it, no feelings seem adequate. It just isn't possible, it just can't happen.

Until he comes home I will continue to count on my belief that lightning rarely strikes twice.

Great American

A Marine that my husband fought beside has been killed. His life was taken by a sniper. I don't know the reason or the situation but I do know that he was a great American.

A great American? I often joke with friends that before 3M and I got married I never knew there were such things as great Americans, I thought that if you lived in America you were American and that was the end of it. I was wrong.

There are men and women who put their lives on the line, for people who complain about them and belittle their efforts. Men and women who spend time away from their families and friends so that others have a chance at a better future. They work 20 hour days so that my son, and many others sons and daughters can live in a country that is free and safe.

Truth is we are surrounded by great Americans and we don't even know it, let alone show it. I am glad that I finally understand this secret society and comprehend that its members may be walking next to me at the mall, waiting patiently for me to turn so they can drive on, or smiling politely as I pass them in the grocery store.

Unfortunately, I also know that today there is one less great American walking this land and that is a true shame. I am sorry I didn't get a chance to thank him for protecting my husband and defending my freedom. I can't wait to get the chance to thank the next great America who crosses my path.