It's Sorta like the Flu

It is sort of like having the flu, you never get better at it. My husband James has been in the Army for 22 years, I have been along for the entire ride. He is currently deployed to Afghanistan. He left for training the end of July 2008, arrived in Afghanistan in November. That means he will hopefully be home next year in November. I love to talk to people but when they hear that my husband is deployed they usually say something like "well, you are probably used to it by now". For years I just nodded and moved on, but it hurt. My heart never feels used to my husband being gone in harm's way. I just didn't know how to explain it to people.
We survived Thanksgiving this year. It was the three children and me. My knee has been painful for sometime because of a cyst that needed surgery. So for Thanksgiving all the kids and I worked together to make a pretty amazing meal. We said our thanks, we were grateful that we four could be together and that Jim was able to email that day so we knew he was alive and safe at least for that day.
I scheduled the knee surgery for the day after my daughter's last exam. I needed an adult to take me to the hospital and back. With Jim gone I had no one who could do that for me. I have a hard time asking for help. It just always feels like I should be helping others and asking for help for myself is difficult. I am working on that character fault. So, December 12 I had knee surgery. It was really hard not to have Jim there. I was scared and could have really used his support, humor and kick butt attitude to get me there. I had to do that myself, I had to assure the kids that I would be ok and that everything would be fine. I wasn't sure myself but I had to make them believe it. I am sure I was grumpy and not the best mom. That makes me embarrassed, that my fears and sadness rubs off on them.
I had surgery, all went well and I came home that afternoon. Jim tried to call me that evening. I was able to tell him that the surgery was a success and that all was well. The phone line went down in Afghanistan so we were not able to really talk. It was nice to hear his voice, like a little hug from across the world.
The next few days are a painful blur that was only made better because of my angel of mercy (my daughter). She got up every four hours and gave me pain medicine, helped me get up when needed and fed me when I was hungry. I had two friends who came and sat with me. The real kind of friends that ask you and don't take no for an answer. They ignored my "I will be fine" comments and came anyway.
The children and I had planned to drive from Northern Virginia to Wisconsin to spend Christmas with family. Jim and I met in high school working at a one screen movie theater in my hometown. My mom still lives there for now. Going to Wisconsin without Jim is always a little painful, fun, love filled, but sad too because he isn't there to remember the past with me. We left early in the morning and drove straight through. I couldn't drive so the two older children drove. I sat painfully, very painfully with my leg propped up on the dash for 15 hours.
Driving into my mom's driveway was so wonderful. The Christmas tree was visible in the front window, the snow piled high in the front yard. I extricated my unbending leg from the dash of the car and with help, made it into the house. I was given food, pain pills, water to drink, a bag of frozen peas for my knee and a big fat warm blanket. It was so nice to have my mom taking care of me like when I was little. I slept in the recliner that night, waking to take more pain pills as needed. That trip wasn't easy at all. Not one I would suggest for anyone eight days out of knee surgery.
I hadn't heard from Jim in a few days. I was getting worried but know that no news is usually good news, but I still worry. Each time I see a new email from him I know he was ok up until the minute he wrote that email and that gives me a little jump forward to the day when he will be home. Tiny little baby steps of him safe, bit by bit he will be ok and then come home. It turns out that there was an underground earthquake somewhere that disrupted the Internet service. Who would think that an underground earthquake somewhere on the globe could cause me to hold my breath for days on end?
I am in Wisconsin, resting my leg mostly, my children are happy and entertained. It was a good thing to come. It keeps their minds off their Dad not being here for Christmas. Jonathon just left for a night of movies at my brother's house. Jeffrey is showing my other brother how to play a video game on the computer. Jennifer is working on a gingerbread house. I always make sure to tell them when I have heard from their dad and when I haven't. I fill them in on the news he tells me which is little. Today, James had a story about being in a meeting and a little mouse running up and down the curtains. Then, it suddenly jumped off and onto the table running off with a stolen nut. Jeffrey thought that was pretty funny. We couldn't figure out how he didn't laugh really hard and disrupt the meeting. Stories like that make it seem human, safe and yet real.
The children and I are working hard to make the best of a bad situation. We want more than anything that James were here. Since we can't have that, we want him safe and we want to have people around us who love us. We will spend Christmas Eve with my family and Christmas day the children and I will go to James' parents home to spend the day with them. s it ok? Are we ok? Are we used to it? The answers are, No, it isn't ok!, We are ok, and Heck no! We are not used to it! When you get the flu the second, third or fourth time is it ok? Are you going to be ok? Are you used to it? You are not ok, you know you will eventually be ok again but in no way are you used to it just because you had to endure it before.