The group is only up to 32 members. But compared to me, and others, feeling like we were the ONLY one I think that number is great. Her War Her Voice featured a blog post that I wrote. I just heard today that what I discussed in the blog will be taken to the Pentagon and talked about there. Here is what it said:
"My husband reenlisted at age 40 after 20 years of being out of the army. At the time we had been married 4 years. It was a very hard decision that he put in my hands and for the first three years of our marriage I flat out said ‘NO! I will not let the Army take you from me!’
We are members of our local VFW and one night I was discussing the problem with a former military spouse. She said that if I chose selfishly it could build resentment. That was a great deal to swallow. We were 40 years old!! We are just going to give up a life we have for a life that who knows what happens tomorrow? I knew less than nothing about Army life and also knew that it was all my husband could think about.
Later that night I said ‘OK.’ I think somewhere in my mind I felt they wouldn’t take him because of his age. I was wrong and ready to face my new life when they picked him up at the house to go to MEPS.
What I learned next is that I did not exist while he was in training. I was stuck in some limbo with no one to answer questions about Why? When? Where? Who? Two weeks into training he got a stress fracture. He was in Ft. Sill medical holdover for five months recovering. He would NOT chapter out under any circumstance. I stayed in limbo. I was stuck almost 1,000 miles away because I was not authorized to live with him. After two months I drove myself to Oklahoma, found us a cheap little house and was there with him while he recovered. The Dr’s finally released him and they sent him on to Warrior Transition Course in White Sands, NM. I packed up the few things we had accumulated in those few months and headed north to return to limbo.
Later that night I said ‘OK.’ I think somewhere in my mind I felt they wouldn’t take him because of his age. I was wrong and ready to face my new life when they picked him up at the house to go to MEPS.
What I learned next is that I did not exist while he was in training. I was stuck in some limbo with no one to answer questions about Why? When? Where? Who? Two weeks into training he got a stress fracture. He was in Ft. Sill medical holdover for five months recovering. He would NOT chapter out under any circumstance. I stayed in limbo. I was stuck almost 1,000 miles away because I was not authorized to live with him. After two months I drove myself to Oklahoma, found us a cheap little house and was there with him while he recovered. The Dr’s finally released him and they sent him on to Warrior Transition Course in White Sands, NM. I packed up the few things we had accumulated in those few months and headed north to return to limbo.
Still, no matter where I looked for answers there was nothing for me. Six months into his being gone, I knew nothing and still did not exist because he is in ‘tradoc.’WTC at White Sands lasted only a month and he was on his way to Ft Sam Houston for his medic training. This was five more months of limbo. Daily we watched the ERB to see if we had any idea where we were going to end up. Two months before his training was over he got his orders to Ft. Hood. That’s a long way from home but I didn’t care as long as we were together. I did not exist for an entire year.
I had tons of questions now about PCS, reimbursements, housing, you name it. There are thousands of questions and the best answer I could get from anyone is ‘you’ll know when it happens.’ And that is how I found everything out, as it happened. I searched online, blogs, websites about PCS, you name it. Everything was at best vague and didn’t answer my deepest questions. I learned that I probably just ask too many questions. My husband was a single soldier when he was in the Army 20 years earlier, he was just as clueless as I was. He also got the strange looks when asking for direction.
I am thrown into a world with a new language, a new way of doing things. A world where pain, suffering and loneliness is an everyday occurrence. There is no basic training for first time wives. There should be. A one week crash course on language, propriety, PCS, deployment, command structure and just what to expect next. Yes, I did take the online AFTB. It helped, but didn’t sink in the way face to face learning sinks in. It also was geared to very young spouses that have never managed a home and had no real life experience.
My first stop at Ft Hood was ACS. I asked them questions about everything from travel to housing. My answer, ‘I don’t know.’ Everything that they did refer to me was geared toward people with children. Guess I was in the wrong place. I also got so many strange looks when I said I know nothing. It was the ‘are you stupid’ looks. I felt like screaming, ‘Yes, I’m over 40 and have gray hair but I’ve NEVER been here before!!!’ I got so tired of people assuming my age meant I had been here for a long time or it was my son who was in the army.
Housing was another horror we faced. We have had years to establish belongings. Yet we are allowed a two bedroom home. The one they picked for us was in one of the oldest housing areas on base and very small. We felt we deserved more than that and found a house four times larger for the same money off base. I felt discriminated against because we have no dependent children. I felt ashamed even that I couldn’t have a child to be able to get a larger house. Yes, I know on one level it’s based on rank, but sometimes our brains don’t acknowledge those things. Not when it’s something so personal.
My husband deployed to Iraq shortly after we got settled in Texas. I try to seek out friends but I feel in limbo here too. The officer’s wives tend to be so busy being an officer’s wife that I don’t exist. The enlisted wives are all 15-20 years younger than me with children. The functions that exist are geared toward people with children. I can’t say there hasn’t been someone to step up and be my friend, and she is an awesome person. We live far enough apart that it puts a dent in having a coffee clutch. And she has something here I don’t. Family. I left my family 1,500 miles away.
I try to help as many as I can, to feel like I am doing something. I put on a smile and say, ‘I am doing well. Sorry to hear about you.’ Then there are days that I wait for someone, ANYONE, to pick up their phone and call me and say “just thinking about you.’ I feel forgotten because I am alone. I feel that because I don’t have children, people think that I don’t have problems, or everyday issues. When in fact not having a child to care for makes loneliness even greater, I have no where to refocus other than myself. I do not have a child’s social events to get a chance to meet other people. If I go to an event where there are children I would get asked, ‘which one is yours?’ And if I respond none, I’d get the look again.
There are days that can go by that I forget to eat because honestly, why do I want to cook for just myself? Laundry? Well, I guess when I run out of pajamas is when I will decide that it has to be done. Cleaning house? Really? It’s just me, when does it get dirty? (Who cares about the dust building up on everything…I don’t.) I head to the commissary once every payday to buy milk and coffee and a dozen cans of soup. Sometimes, if there is a family in need I’ll make another trip to whip up a meal for them but can’t even fathom the idea of doing that for myself.
I sit and I wait. I could sew. I could walk on the treadmill. I could do Tai Chi. But if I do, I might miss a message. Besides, who cares if I do any of those things? Yes, I should care about myself, but that got lost when he left for Iraq. It is such a strange phenomenon. I cared the day before he left. What happened in those hours that turned my world around? This is where friends should come into play. But this is the Army. Friendships are hard to come by and even harder when you have nothing in common with most of the people. At the end of the day most spouses have someone to tuck in at night and say ‘I love you’ to. I just go to bed, alone in an empty house.
This is a lonely world. I love my husband dearly and support him every second of the day. It is just my longing that someone, somewhere would create a group just for us older ones that don’t fit into the nice little niche the Army has for enlisted wives. A place that we can go for support and activities and have something more in common than a child."
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