When I was younger, someone told me if a day goes by in which you do not learn something it is a day wasted. This is something I have held on to for years. In the beginning, I remember thinking, how is that possible? I mean there are so many classes you can take right? I didn't fully grasp that what she meant when she said this to me is that life is a class in itself. Although, I am very proud to say I believe I have not wasted many days if any, I must say there are many lessons I wish I hadn't learned. Let me explain. Just know this may be a bit dark.I have been proud since the day I began dating my husband to say he is in the service, rolling into he is deployed, eventually landing at he was injured in Operation Iraqi Freedom. When people say I'm sorry, my response normally is “It was for a good cause, and at least I have him no matter how broken he is.” Don't get me wrong, it would be easier if he was the man I met and fell in love with so many years ago. But, people change, and I find myself only loving him deeper and stronger with every day that passes. I have had to adapt to life with PTSD among other things. This at first seemed a bit impossible, but there were good days that kept me holding on. As I learned, more about it and ways to counteract it those good days far outnumber the bad. I became good at "reading the future" so that I could calm triggers and we could have "normal" outings and enjoyable family time at home.
Our son is 16, this is uncharted territory for our family because he is our oldest. How can I use my "future reading" skills in uncharted territory? My husband and son have a unique bond which unfortunately has been on the fritz since the full onset of puberty. I can feel the tension when either of them walks into a room the other is already in. This is not a constant, they still joke around and obviously are trying to find the now ever elusive relationship they are both missing with each other. Neither are great at using words to express themselves, and both are so ready to box things up and tuck them way deep down.
Recently an incident with my son at school was cause for me to go pick him up. This wasn't something he agreed with, and felt an injustice. I became the target for his release of the anger through merely words. Due to that and my concern for him, I was in tears when we made it home. This led to my husband being upset, and because my son's tension was already extreme, the two argued. I finally was able to get them both to walk away but not before each cut the other with the darkest words they could imagine.
On into the week, I am watching my husband as I can tell his PTSD medication and coping exercises are obviously failing him. We try to go about our weekend routine only for him to have a mild public outburst. We eventually ended up in the ER with him having chest and abdominal pains, vomiting, and sweating profusely. Once seen and released to go home, I realize I'm living in the middle of one of those classes I would rather do without. A day I would prefer to mark off as wasted. I know that all of this has a purpose and is useful for the future, but I really hate this moment.
My husband is not one for words, never has been, but when he uses them- they are so powerful they can bring you through or put you in all kinds of emotions. He shares with me (I'm paraphrasing here) he is so upset that he doesn't know how to take back the hateful words he said to our son, and he can't believe he let himself get so worked up over something so small. Yes, every parent has their moments that they obviously regret but most don't throw them into such extreme anxiety that land in an ER. Since my husband has been injured and is no longer active duty, when we go to events where they ask for our military to stand to be recognized, he always hesitates. I have never understood this as I think of how proud of him I am, my children are, and the rest of the people we know are... so why isn't he? This long dark ride home from the ER, I get my answer. He tells me he is proud of his service- He is glad that because of his duty station, he met me and we have this amazing family, but he can't help when he looks around at the others standing, hoping they are nothing like him. Hoping they are not suffering the same physical and mental ailments he is. Because, as proud as he is he would trade it for almost anything just to be normal, to not put his children and me through the things these injuries have caused.
I usually have a lot of words, sometimes completely useless (I know this to be accurate). But, in this very moment, I cannot find a single word fitting to use my breath on. In this exact moment, I just want to hold him, so I grip the wheel so tightly my fingertips go numb, my heart has sunk deeper and sadder than the Titanic. I frantically search for words to wrap him in; to no avail, all of my vocabularies just fail me. Not one word or even several words at this moment are adequate enough. I feel disheartened for all the years I asked, "Why don't you want to stand up? Why don't you want to be recognized for your service? Aren't you proud?" I am shattered that all this time I have been so insensitive, all the while chalking it up to him being a bit shy. Suddenly, I just wish I had the power to let him see himself through my eyes; to see how much I adore him and feel, no matter how broken he thinks he is, he is irreplaceable to myself and our children. Maybe that would be all he needs to be healed. I know that isn't possible, so I will just spend the rest of my life trying to show him that's really how it is.
-The Proud Wife & Caregiver to a (Ret.) U.S. Army Veteran.
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