It's the Little Things

There has been so much going on since Covid started...we are having to move with nowhere to go, and the landlord is making repairs they never made to the house before they wanted to sell. The work they are doing cuts off my internet all of the time, and we have nowhere to go.

But through all of this pressure and the stress, my hubby had a birthday coming up and we really needed a day to not deal with ANYTHING! We took him to the lake, where we get no service....so we could take a moment to just appreciate our lives. We needed this! There was too much on us, and I knew if we didn't....we would suffer and regret it. Thank goodness the HTH program understands us and never makes it hard.

We had an amazing time and loved every moment, including this beautiful sunset.

Adriana Nguyen, HTH Representative & Veteran Caregiver

Grace

Some days are just hard days. These are the days I have to just step back and realize what is really worth stressing about. As moms, we often want everything to be just perfect for everyone in our home. This past year of complete craziness has truly taught me one thing. And that is GRACE. First, I need to give myself grace. I am not perfect. I am only one person. One person that has many titles: Caregiver, Wife, Mom, Employee, Friend, Daughter, & now a Teacher. 

I have also learned to really give my kids grace! We have high expectations for them. It was hard for me to accept, but I do have to realize this change has really affected them too. They went from having a routine and going to school for an education, and now MOM is the teacher. A teacher that hasn’t even been trained. We are all just winging it this year. It has truly taught me that we ALL deserve some GRACE. It will all be okay! 

-Jess, A Caregiver of a Wounded Iraq Veteran

Longest Days and Sleepless Nights

This past Friday, December 4, 2020, my youngest daughter, Lorelei, came home from school with symptoms of a sore throat, bodily discomfort, and a high fever. Throughout the weekend, we have documented high fevers, and she has started coughing profusely. We have isolated her in her room and now wear masks in her presence. It could be anything, like a seasonal cold that strikes you from the abrupt change in weather that occurred in Florida last week. But as in the times of Covid-19, we live as "at night all cats are brown." We are being proactive, bringing all the girls back home for distance learning, and coordinated a Covid -19 test for on the afternoon of December 7, 2020.

What a great frustration; I am taken aback by the irony that we are the ones who boast of being the most responsible, disciplined, and strict regarding this pandemic. We are the ones who are harboring this sad possibility that one of our daughters is infected. This is the harsh reality that we all live in right now; when it comes to Covid-19, we are all in the same boat.

The results turned out to be negative! So sad that the fear of the possibility that in a possible future contagion the result would not be so favorable won't go away any time soon. 

Family Stories

November is National Family Stories Month- the perfect time to share favorite memories or traditions. Often many families gather together over a Thanksgiving meal, making for the perfect opportunity to share these stories. While this year is different in that our nation is in a pandemic and gathering together physically may not be possible for extended families, we thought it important to share our FAMILY stories!

Here are a few favorite memories from our Representatives:

Cadena Family

"Work hard but… play harder is one of our favorite mottos around here. Our spontaneous trips tend to be our best.  One of my favorite trips of all time as a family was when we visited Myrtle Beach for the weekend.  It was in February, so it was still a bit chilly but so much fun.  Although the ocean was freezing, the kids enjoyed kicking their shoes off and feeling the sand between their toes.  They played until their little feet couldn’t stand the cold anymore.  We went and warmed up in the hot tubs and then actually took a swim in the outdoor pool that was heated.  It was one of the most relaxed and cherished memories." 

Liz S.

Our family is big on all of the scents that go with the holidays! From cinnamon wassail and Christmas trees to the spices of our favorite foods. Every year we make pomanders to dry and become fragrant, they also make fun decorations.

Another thing that we do, is “adopt” a family from our local “tree of sharing” and buy gifts for someone who’s facing difficult circumstances this year. My teenagers save their money to buy a gift and try to make the holidays fun for someone their age.

Our First Gingerbread House

Tiffany S.

Since we were married in 2012, we have enjoyed decorating a gingerbread home every December. In past years, when visiting family out of state, we decided we would share this fun tradition with them. We buy tiny gingerbread villages from the store, equip ourselves with extra frosting and decorations (a must in our household), and everyone decorates their own house. Our family LOVES a good, healthy competition, so we have those who were not present on decorating day cast votes for their favorite! We've had to make a few rules along the way after all the red frosting was used on one home before we officially began working on our masterpieces. The best part is the memories made!

From our Family to yours, wishing you a happy holiday season! 

~Heroes Thanking Heroes Team

De Facto Family

Family Photo Before Joining the Army

With the holidays around the corner, once again, I am thinking of family near and far. How are they doing? Are they healthy? There are any number of questions I should be asking my relatives directly. Instead, like many, I allow myself to get caught up in the chaos of daily life. The worst guilt I have is in regards to my brother. I am not very good about staying in touch. This is a bad habit that started nearly 30 years ago when he joined the Army right out of high school. I don't remember writing to him during basic and AIT. I can count on less than two hands the number of times I wrote or sent packages overseas on his many deployments. The brother I knew has been largely absent from my life for decades. My sister and I have given up on trying to celebrate a holiday together because he will always decline. Over the years, I have tried to find ways to connect. When I told him how much I loved living overseas, he laughed and told me that his experience living in the same country was very different. I didn't understand that for him, living in the barracks on a military installation was very different than a civilian living among the local population. No matter how hard I tried, there seemed to be this huge military wall between us. I was not a part of his world, his family, or his life.

The reality is that I can't relate to him because I'm not military. I can't possibly understand his life because I haven't lived it. I was writing a completely unrelated blog for work this week when I reached out to my brother. I asked him for his favorite quote that depicts how he felt about the military being his family. Once again, I was trying to relate, make an emotional connection, and to understand his world. My brother's response was:

"Consider this, our 'military family' have been present. Our old families have not been present. They (military family) have the same points of time reference, speak the same language. Our children have grown up playing together, surrogates for cousins they only see every other year. Military members become 'de facto' aunts and uncles and in a few cases are referred to as such. They have shared the exact same hardships for the exact same reasons often at the exact same time. When was the last time our family got together for a holiday?"

I honestly can't remember the last time our family was together for a holiday. I remember getting together for a family reunion in 2004. My oldest daughter is 29, and the last holiday that I have pictures to include my brother was the Christmas of 1994. I am ashamed to say that I did not support my brother like I should have done. After chastising myself, I realized that relationships are a two-way street. The hard truth remains that my brother pulled away from his biological family as much as they failed to give him the support needed to fight the fight. During the same conversation, my brother told me that "he no longer attends church because there is no one that he can relate to and that he doesn't belong." Have our churches truly convinced our combat veterans through 'Jesus is my boyfriend' songs that the warriors of the Bible are no longer relevant or celebrated? Have we as a society contributed to our soldiers believing the only family they can count on are their fellow comrades in arms?

Today I am married to a combat veteran who has taught me a lot about what it means to be a part of a military family. I have had more contact with my brother in the last five years than in the previous 25 combined. I am still an outsider. My brother told me yesterday that even though "you sister have raised the flap of the tent to peer inside, you are still not a part of the circus." He is right; I am not a military wife. I am a disabled combat veteran's wife, and that is an entirely different type of circus. I have become a de facto family member in the ever-growing population of our nation's military veterans. I went from working in church ministry full time to being an advocate for my brother, my spouse, other veterans, and their caregivers. I don't have the power to change the past, but I can change today. I still have several family members serving in the military; maybe you do as well. Let us all make the commitment to let our family and friends in and out of the military know that they are loved and supported this holiday season.

Written by a Veteran Caregiver

Wedding Bells and Shotgun Shells

Photo Credit: Kellie Rohlfing Photography

“ A great marriage is not when the ‘perfect couple’ comes together. It is when an IMPERFECT couple learns to enjoy their differences. “ – Dave Meurer

In the last year, my veteran Curtis and I have each had one biological child from our blended family get married. We have entered the season where our adult children are making life long decisions on the person they want to spend the rest of their life with. Curtis and I made poor decisions in the choosing of our previous spouses and would prefer our children avoid that. How many of us have found ourselves wishing we would have been wiser in the choosing of our life partner? I envy those military wives who have gone the long haul with their soldiers and are still in love. What would it be like to have weathered war after war growing stronger together as the bullets of life zinged all around?

Whenever Curtis and I meet an older couple, we ask them their key to a successful marriage. Nearly every time, the answer is ‘communication.’ Many of our combat veterans struggle with communication due to their emotional or physical injuries sustained during combat. Curtis has told me many times that trying to communicate with me “is frustrating and annoying as hell.” I know that I have said many times, “You aren’t listening,” to which he replies, “I’m trying to, but you aren’t making any sense.” It is a certainty that many couples can relate to these words. I mean, let’s face it, communication is difficult among normal couples living a relatively normal life. Communication with a disabled military spouse is further complicated by additional stressors seen and unseen to include TBI and PTSD. It isn’t easy, and not being able to say the right words can leave couples feeling angry, frustrated, hurt, and unloved. Finding ways to communicate that work is vital.

Curtis and I both have a TBI. His is from years of military service, and mine from being kicked in the head by a horse 14 years ago. It is easy for him to talk. In fact, it is way too easy for him to talk, if you know what I mean. He lacks a filter and can’t seem to stop talking when he should have probably stopped many MANY words ago. I, however, have a difficult time with verbal speech due to the area of my brain that was injured. I can text or type all day long, but ask me to talk, especially under the stress of a discussion, is nearly impossible. I have learned to listen and take notes. Although it drives Curtis crazy, I will text, type, or write out my feelings and thoughts. He wants me to talk, and I want him to STOP talking. I want him to listen, and he wants me to STOP overthinking a response. I have learned to raise my hand, asking him to stop because I can’t process his lack of filter. He has learned to hold my hand and wait patiently until I am able to find the words to express myself verbally.

My middle daughter got married yesterday, and I can’t express enough how happy I am. They are both so wonderful at healthy communication. Do they get irritated with each other? Yes, and my son-in-law calls my daughter a ‘sassy pants” when she starts getting snarky with him. That is their code word for ‘let’s take a break and come back later.’ I have no doubt they, like every couple, will have their share of conflicts, battles, and wars. The key is to remember that before diving for the shotgun shells, think back to the sweet sound of wedding bells. There is a reason why you chose your partner. Maybe all that is needed is a little time holding hands and talking from the heart.

By Justina Lyn- Veteran Caregiver & HTH Representative

Happy Halloween

Trick-or-Treating, school parties, bobbing for apples, Harvest Festivals, Trunk-or-Treats... Many will forego these Halloween traditions during this unprecedented year, where a global pandemic has altered our way of participating in many cherished Fall festivities. 

As military families, we've learned to adapt, overcome, and rise to the challenge. Retiring Our Boots has only sharpened our resiliency all the more, and this Halloween would be a resounding success if we had anything to do with it! 

After Denys, the Coalition's Donor Relations Manager and HTH Alumni, shared her vision for a special Halloween celebration for our kids, the planning began! And last Friday, after much anticipation, our families from across the nation met virtually for a night of fun, games, and laughter! The event was something positive to look forward to after a week of learning, work, and daily obligations. It was an hour to set aside our worries and safely come together as one big family with the focus on our children. 

From kitties to SpongeBob to a unicorn and Bendy, 24 kiddos were in attendance. Costumes were admired, favorite candies were discussed, and giggles were abounding. Denys opened the night with a spooktacular reading of the children's story, Room on the Broom. 

Guess the Amount was a crowd favorite hosted by Lulu the Kitty and her mom Jessica, who is also one of our awesome Senior Team Leads! With 107 delicious candy corn pieces and pumpkins in the jar, Elsa had a near-perfect guess of 105. 

To wrap up the fa-boo-lous night, we played several rounds of Halloween BINGO! From 5 in a row to four corners to creating an "X" with the removable bingo markers, we had many winners, including the Spooky Brothers, the Mullens, and the Sneaky Mummy.

With all the smiles we saw, we know this will be a night that will not be easily forgotten! In fact, it's quite possible it may become an annual event!

From our family to yours...

Have a Safe 

AND

Happy Halloween!

"The Warrior is a Child"

 

"Lately I've been winning battles left and right. But even winners can get wounded in a fight. People think that I'm amazing, strong beyond my years. But they don't see inside of me, I'm hiding all my tears."- Twila Paris

In 1984 singer/songwriter Twila Paris released the song "The Warrior is a Child." I remember being asked to sing this song at least once or twice a year for church service. At the time, I didn't have a full grasp of the meaning of the words. I mean, the lyrics were powerful, and I understood that it touched a lot of people's hearts, but why all the tears from the congregation? It wasn't until this last year that the song's full meaning hit me. I look around at my fellow caregivers and veterans and am humbled at their warrior spirit. I see the brave fronts, the desire to push through adversity, and the need to succeed no matter how hard it may be.

Last week my warrior and I moved from Maryland to our new home in Missouri. While the movers were loading the truck in Maryland, an A-10 Thunderbolt flew over us. My warrior stopped what he was doing, came over to where I was standing out of view from the others, and fell apart. He put his head on my shoulder and cried. He told me that the sound of an A-10 is bittersweet and shook him to the core. I need to explain that my warrior is one of the strongest no-nonsense men I have ever met. He can come across as extremely harsh, confrontational, and unforgiving. However, at that moment, my warrior was overwhelmed with emotions and needed reassurance that he wasn't alone in his battle.

Our combat warriors have seen and done things that we, as civilians, cannot possibly understand. How many times has an insensitive friend or family member said, "My John Doe died in combat" in regards to their still living warrior? In their mind, their loved one did not come home the same as when they left. I have known my warrior for over 34 years. I know that he is not the same boy I knew as a teenager. My brother served 26 years in Army SF, and I can say without a doubt he did not come home the same brother after his first deployment. The focus should be that they BOTH came home alive! With each deployment, there was a cost that had to be paid. Our soldiers have and are still paying that cost with their failing mental and physical health. 

Our military caregivers are warriors in another way. How many caregivers are not only caring for their wounded warriors, working, AND have the additional stress of homeschooling during COVID? I cannot imagine the emotional or physical strain of trying to keep it all together. There are not enough hours in a day to fight the battles COVID alone has brought. However, thousands of military caregivers across the world are doing just that.

My warrior tells me that I am his safe place. He depends on me for emotional balance and safety. Having traumatic brain disease means that every day I lose a little more of the boy I once knew, and yet he battles on. I tell my warrior that he is my safe place as well. I know that he would die to protect me because he has already proven it with the sacrifices he made while serving our country. No matter who you are, what you do, or where you live, there needs to be that special place where you can allow yourself to express your struggles. Every warrior, no matter how strong their armor is, will, at some point "drop their sword and cry for just a while," and that is absolutely ok.

Written By Justina Lyn, Heroes Thanking Heroes Representative & Veteran Caregiver 

Military Lingo 101

It was the summer of 1986 when I first met my wounded warrior (WW), Curtis. He was a senior while I was a sophomore. We met in front of the administration building of a private Christian boarding school. Established students formed a line to welcome new students. It was in this line where I first met one of the best friends I would ever make and future husband. I'm sharing this snippet of history because Curtis and I were both taught how to speak relatively proper English. Growing up in California meant that we didn't speak with a twang, drawl, or use what I thought were funny terms like 'all y'all.' I had certainly never been exposed to military lingo.

Curtis joined the Army right after graduation. I did not hear his voice again until nearly 27 years later. When we first talked, I did not think it was the same person. He had this sexy southern accent. Where did his California diction go? How could someone suddenly start speaking and sounding like someone else? It turns out that he spent a lot of his military career in the southern states. His experiences in the South took the country boy persona to a whole new level. Added to his new accent were terms I had never heard before. I'd hear him tell his boys when complaining of aches and pains, 'embrace the suck.' How does a person physically embrace a metaphor? While out shopping, I got a text asking, 'what's your grid'? My response was something to the effect of him needing to check for typos. Then there was the time I was struggling with making a career decision, and I was told 'time to cut sling load.' I remember looking at him with a very confused expression on my face. In the beginning of our relationship, I felt like I needed a Dummy's Guide to Military Lingo. At the very least, I needed one of those translation apps for my phone. I was completely out of my depth both as a caregiver and sweetheart. I wasn't a military wife who had learned the verbiage alongside their soldier. I was a middle-aged woman forced to learn a foreign language from a seasoned combat veteran.

Communicating with me was a struggle for Curtis as well. I had worked in church ministries for decades to include living overseas as a civilian. He liked to tease me for speaking the Queen's English. I tried to explain that using words that were more than three syllables was in no way similar to speaking like a Royal. He, however, used a lot of four-letter words that I found to be highly offensive. It took many months until he was able to explain that he was simply enunciating his feelings or ideas. I soon realized that there was a lot of "enunciating" in the military and not to take it personally.

It has taken several years, but I think we have sorted through our language barrier. I find myself telling people that Curtis low crawled through my defenses in regard to our courtship. The other day he told a cashier their "attitude was completely inappropriate." My heart nearly exploded with elation. He had used a five-syllable word and expressed himself properly rather than enunciating with a four-letter word. Recently, during a discussion about how life hasn't turned out like we wanted it to this year, I said, "Well, sweetheart, I guess it's time to adjust fire and move on." Every now and again, I need help translating a term when we are at a military event. I have learned a lot but have a long way still to go. It is an adjustment on both sides to learn another's language. It is even harder for the person who has chosen to leave their world behind to join that of someone in the military community. The military community is a close-knit family with its own rules, language, and traditions that can be somewhat daunting to learn. My veteran may think that the Infantry is the Queen of battle, but I think those of us who are new to the whole military life could make a good argument that we come close.

Written by Justina Lyn, Veteran Caregiver & Heroes Thanking Heroes Representative

Goodbye Ben and Jerry, Hello Kale

 “Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary.” – Fred Rogers

The subject of mental health is one that has become increasingly recognizable in the world and mainstream within the military community. For many veterans and caregiver's mental health issues are as normal as breathing. Although talked about frequently amongst us, there still seems to be a negative connotation to the words mental illness when speaking with those outside of the military community. Even within the military community, the topic of mental illness is avoided if the spouse is active duty. The world has come a long way in normalizing mental illness, but there still seems to be a stigma attached to those who admit to battling depression or any other mental health diagnosis.

During this pandemic, I have had some significant struggles with mental health. Even before Covid-19, depression and I were more than mere acquaintances. With alcoholism running in my family, I learned at an early age to avoid that particular dependency. My personal poison is sugar. I am a hard-core sugar addict. My veteran and I have been living full time in our RV since July 2019. Imagine sharing less than 150sq ft of space with a veteran who is a 100% physically and mentally disabled. Now imagine doing that during a pandemic while sheltering in place. On top of everything, I was in my final semester of University. In a week, I went through two family-size bags of M&M’s, three large bags of Lindt Dark Chocolate Truffles, several pints of Ben and Jerry’s, and other wonderfully delicious sweeties. I was eating my pain. My panic and anxiety were nearly uncontrollable. Every day I seemed to sink further into a depressive state made worse by increasing stress from school, life, and my veteran's own deteriorating mental health. I knew that I was gaining weight, but since I lived mostly in leggings and hoodies, denial was made easy.

In May, I visited my mom in Oklahoma for Mother's Day. My sister insisted on taking pictures with my mom and then posted them on Facebook. When I saw the picture, my first reaction was ‘OMG I am so fat!’ quickly followed by ‘my sister is an evil witch for posting such an unflattering picture!’ That picture was the catalyst to a complete life change. I was tired of feeling miserable about life and myself. I had strong feelings of resentment, anger, panic, and anxiety about nearly everything. The sludge I felt on the inside was overflowing into my relationship with my veteran and other family members. One of the saving graces during this time is the bi-monthly counseling appointment with my VA caregiver coordinator. I felt that I lacked the ability to control nearly every aspect of my life. I decided to stop letting sweeties dictate my happiness or, in my case, the lack of. Together, my caregiver coordinator and I set reasonable goals for managing my stress. I started walking a mile three times a week and omitting all sweeties from my life. I’ll admit that in the beginning, it was absolutely brutal walking a mile. I felt like I was going to pass out and die from exhaustion. There were days when my veteran and I were at each other's throats, and I just wanted to be left alone with my good pals Ben & Jerry. I started keeping a daily journal. In the beginning, more often than not, I would only have the energy to write ‘life sucks, but I’m still alive.’ As the days turned into weeks and then months, my entries became more positive than negative, my body stronger, and relationships healthier.

I am now walking four-five days a week and an average of three miles. I still avoid sugar and complex carbs like the plague. I have a long way to go, but have learned to accept the changes as a permanent fixture in my life. I still struggle with depression and panic attacks, but they are manageable compared to controlling every moment of every day. When I wake up in the morning, I make the conscious choice to be happy. Some mornings are easier to make that choice than others. There are days I want to stay in bed, hide under the blankets, and disappear because I am emotionally exhausted. Being a full-time caregiver adds another level of responsibility to the necessity of maintaining a positive attitude. In the quote by Fred Rogers, as mentioned above, talking about our feelings really does help them to become more manageable. It could be that talking about them comes in the form of prayer/meditation, journaling, writing poems, art, or music. I believe it is important to utilize the resources provided through the VA and non-profits like the Coalition in regards to mentoring and counseling. These resources are lifelines and can be lifesavers. It may seem hopeless when the sludge is so deep it seems to cut off the ability to move or breathe. Trust me; there is always hope. Reaching up for help while sinking in the muck of a challenging life was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

Written by: Justina Lyn, HTH Representative & Veteran Caregiver

16 Year Alive Day

16 years now.

Man, when you look at where you’re at in life, being a veteran takes only a small amount of time and really does impact so many other areas of your life.

I posted recently in our Veterans Circle FB page that our military has written a blank check made payable to The United States of America for an amount up to & including my life. Some pay that price all at once, on foreign battlefields, while others like me are paying it over a lifetime.

You may be wondering why I say it like that and believe me, I had to search for the words that best fit the situation. The situation is that the physical scars caused by that bullet tearing through my face have long ago healed. The mental scars are always healing, but the effects of that injury are a weight that I’ve carried all along, and it’s getting heavier and heavier.  

Yes, age plays a part in aggravating the wear and tear that serving in the military puts us through. Some mornings you wake up so sore in your back, neck, and elsewhere that the thought of just staying in bed becomes a viable option. You can’t do that, though. If you choose to get out of bed and get your body moving, you’re helping to reclaim a little bit of your life. Sounds too simple to be true, right? It’s not.

In the years since that night in Mahmoudiya Iraq, when I really didn’t think I was going to make it home, a lot has changed for me. My job has evolved from being a volunteer with an amazing organization to being a leader. My education has expanded to include my B.S. degree, and in about 2 months I’ll complete a 1-year M.B.A. program. I want my education to inspire my kids and family to see that if I can do it, so can they. Lastly, and most importantly, my family has changed. The baby daughter I thought of while in Iraq and later while lying in a hospital bed is now a senior in high school, driving and filling out college applications, and she even has a boyfriend that I really like. He’s a future Marine and will subject himself to the same types of challenges that I’ve gone through. To not only earn the title of US Marine but to uphold the traditions, values and integrity that make a great service member. My son is now a 7th grader and has become an incredible baseball player, gamer, and the best big & little brother his sisters could ever hope for. My little one, our little surprise, is now 3, and she’s giving us all the joy and frustration that come with the terrible twos, but we couldn’t imagine our life without her.

My wife has changed too. I’m the one living with the physical pain from my wounds, but my wife has been equally burdened by the weight of my injury. She worries about me first thing in the morning and when she goes to bed. She gets me now too. Completely. She knows with a look if I’m hurting, if I’m confused, or even if I’m reminiscing about my days in the Marines. She just knows. She has watched me have seizures. She’s watched me trying to find a reprieve from my pain without using heavy medications, and this entire time, she’s been my biggest supporter, my caregiver, and my best friend. There’s never been a day that I haven’t thought to myself, “there’s no way I’d be this far in my recovery and my life without her by my side.” She doesn’t get enough credit for keeping me going, but she is my motivation to keep living, to keep fighting and endure whatever I have to in the pursuit of inspiring my family.

If you’re reading this and you have been through a lot, you have to know by now that you can keep going. Like the SEALS are famous for saying, “the only easy day was yesterday,” and if you made it through yesterday, today is no different. My days are a little slower with a lot more pain, but they are so completely and totally worth it.

If I can do it, you can do it.

Written by: Donny Daughenbaugh, USMC (Ret.) 

Perfection is in the Eyes of the Beholder

 

As with many families in and outside of the military community, ours is a blended family. I am the quintessential hippie chick from Northern California who believes all dreams are possible. My veteran, however, is the typical combat seasoned soldier who will say what he thinks no matter how it sounds. If you don't like what he says too bad, just rub some dirt on it and move on. When my veteran and I first started dating, I had the grandiose idea that our six adult children would all get along. I envisioned us gathering together as one big happy family around the campfire singing Kumbaya. With marriage, we became the modern Brady Bunch with three girls and three boys between us.

The first time our middle children met (at the age of 22 years old), they decided they wanted to date as well. The idea of mother/daughter dates with father/son worked out well until it didn't, and they broke up. I was expected to side with my daughter and my veteran with his son. When I refused to choose a side, my daughter interpreted it as me choosing my veteran and son over her. This led to a lot of hurt feelings, the silent treatment for nearly two years, and heartache. I really just wanted everyone to get along and hold hands, but that was unrealistic. Adult children are just that; adults who have their own ideas about what and who they want in their quality world.

Our oldest daughters have the same name, except one is Cassy and the other Kassie. In the beginning, the firstborn clashed and did not like each other. They are both bossy and domineering. It took 6 years, but the C(K) assandra's have decided that they can co-exist as long as they both stay the head of their respective younger siblings. They now refer to themselves along with my middle daughter as the Three Witches Club.

Our youngest boys did not like sharing the attention with the only mom either of them had. Coming into this family, my veteran's youngest was the only child from wife number two. He was abandoned by his mother after the divorce. I am the only mom he has, but my son developed an unhealthy jealousy. Both of the babies in our families went active duty Army and served together at Ft. Campbell. They rarely saw one another due to this complex rivalry. As a mom and stepmom, it has been challenging to be equally attentive without my own children feeling slighted.

Holidays are complicated with our adult children spread across America. Get-togethers have been made even more difficult because of my veteran's severe TBI and PTSD. He has said some terrible things to all of the children, but my children have taken it very personally. Of his two sons, one is married and the other engaged. My veteran used to be very close to the eldest son, but cruel and cutting words spoken to the fiancée have dampened the relationship. In my veteran's mind, he is merely speaking the truth. He legitimately doesn't understand why feelings have been hurt, and relationships strained. I cannot undo the psychological damage and distance that unkind words carry with them. I no longer try to explain that their dad/stepdad is in a tremendous amount of emotional and physical pain. I have attempted to educate them that his symptoms will only worsen, to be patient and non-confrontational. Having been upgraded to traumatic brain disease (TBD), his symptoms mirror that of dementia.

It may seem that I am painting a picture of gloom and doom, but that is not the case. I did not end up with the perfect blended family full of smiles and singing campfire songs. What I have is the perfect but imperfect family with adult children who are finding their own way in life just as my veteran and I are. The C(K) assndra's have turned out to be the most patient and helpful, which is a surprise to everyone. My middle daughter recently extended an olive branch and invited her stepfather to her upcoming wedding. Our youngest son recently drove out from Tennessee to spend two weeks with his dad. His willingness to help allowed me the freedom to fly to Maryland to go wedding dress shopping with my daughter. As our children have entered their mid and late 20's a new level of maturity and understanding of their dad/stepdad's disabilities have developed.

I do not foresee a day when all six children and spouses will be together in our home. I have given up on the dream of singing Kumbaya or even a family picture. A person could quite literally drive themselves crazy trying to create the perfect family, the perfect home, and the perfect life without success. I have learned to accept that life isn't meant to be perfect because I would miss out on opportunities to grow as a person. I enjoy and cherish every happy memory made, make every effort to learn from today, and extend grace to those around me, praying they will do the same.

Written by Justina Lyn

A Series of Interruptions

There are so many choices when one reflects on little phrases that capture the elements of life. Words simply do not do it justice, yet we still so enjoy giving it a try and even celebrate these words with art and places of honor throughout our days. There is what I would consider the easy ones; life is joy or happiness; life is overcoming, and so on. One can easily choose to reflect on the good or the bad, the challenges we face, and how we answer those challenges. One can attempt to try to represent the give and take of life in one fell swoop with phrases like sweet sorrow or tough love. In truth, all of these are so beautifully sufficient, we enjoy pouring over them again and again from which to draw strength and inspiration. At the same time, we continue in our efforts for new phrases that continue to ring in on the vibration of truth that lends to our loving these words and the wisdom they infuse to our souls.

One such phrase came to me during the time of life when our family was joined by our first child. Everything was different. I would try to plan my day with an infant in tow and realized everything I knew was wrong. I knew it took me 25 minutes to walk from our apartment just off base to the grocery store in town. However, that was wrong; 25 minutes was how long it took me before I had a baby. Now it took me an hour. I knew it took me one afternoon to wash our clothes for the week; this was also wrong. Laundry had become a never-ending quest with no end in sight but with mere survival the goal. The life I knew before baby was gone, and a new normal was setting in. This meant I had to relearn everything I thought I knew.

With the addition (or subtraction) of every family member, this process would repeat. With any new life-altering challenges thrown at our family, this process would repeat. This experience would happen again upon my husband’s return from war. Realizing how supporting his healing would so drastically change everything I thought I knew. Addressing issues such as refiguring how to meet our basic needs and care and factoring in new needs of everyone in the family due to whatever challenge had surfaced. Including caring for myself so that I could provide care for the rest of my family.

The phrase that came to me while trying to acclimate to the needs of a growing family was that life is a series of interruptions. One has a focus, such as to care for the family in some way, and throughout one’s focused attempts on these efforts, one is inevitably interrupted repeatedly. It is a bit on the ironic side since interruptions feel like something out place and even frustrating to the progress of life’s purpose. Nevertheless, we all have them, and if life is a series of interruptions, how one responds to and copes with these interruptions will greatly define one’s life. One of the best supports is community, and I have never felt such community as I have with the Coalition to Salute America’s Heroes.

While defining my new normal after my husband returned from war, the Coalition was a saving grace to more than one interruption to our lives. They were there so that these interruptions were handled more smoothly and gently, providing relief and refocus. It seems the year 2020 has brought many common interruptions to all our lives, and during this time of uncertainty, the Coalition has brought empowerment to many veteran families, including my own through the Heroes to Heroes Program, granting us the opportunity to help ourselves. We are grateful for their ingenuity and generosity and for standing with the veteran community through our series of interruptions.  

~HTH Representative