I went shopping two days ago. Or was it last night? I went to the grocery store, and I bought food for a family of three (plus dog) to last two weeks or more. I stocked up. I took two hours. I clipped my coupons, checked the online site, and took off. I saved $70 on our bill. I bought some new things to try with AJ. I looked forward to cooking.
Aaron will be on a plane Sunday, headed towards Walter Reed for appointments and eventually surgery.
AJ and I will be eating all the fresh food up alone and freezing what we can before we follow our warrior in about a week. I hope to be there for surgery.
You think, "He's home safe. He's on American soil, and he's mine forever! We can live like retired people, but raise our kid to be around both parents everyday even if it makes her weird! I don't care! I got top prize. He's home, he has his mind, the important parts of his body, and he's not angry! My funny, sweet guy with shitty memory is here and that's all I need!"
In the Army, you get used to long absences, short notice missions, and the like. You expect it. You know it's what you signed up for, right? And when you're done, you're done!
Not when war comes home with him. Not when we experience the consequences of 09..07.11 every single damn day, and some days are worse than others.
Earlier this week, he couldn't go more than a few minutes without flinching and his legs spasming. It only went on a day or two before he took off for the VA. CT scan, morphine, we'll call with the results.
He has neuromas on both sciatic nerves. It's a special kind of neuroma, reserved for above-knee amputees. And since he has two of those, I guess he gets two of them, too.
It just sucks.
I just booked tickets to Houston to see the family of a very dear friend who is not alive anymore. I named my kid after him and it's time for his family, who is already close to my heart, to meet her. Adjustments will be made.
I just filled my fridge with fresh meat and veggies and fruit. I bought milk and juice and all those things.
Aaron is on morphine and in pain and relativity useless. He hates it more than I do. He's dozing on the couch right now, exhausted from just being awake.
It just sucks.
And what I want is that life where we are done with the military and war and don't pay for it every day. Where we don't have to freeze everything in the fridge and eat up the fresh stuff since we might not be here.
We almost never know how it's gonna go when he wakes up winching in pain.
We can build a mansion. We can have a place to call home. We can have kids, and sign up for activities, and do all that shit people with families do.
It doesn't matter.
War comes home and it never leaves.
It even leaves you crying in front of a full refrigerator.
Since September 7, 2011, Aaron and I have been adjusting to our new life after he suffered catastrophic injuries while performing Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) operations in Kandahar, Afghanistan. After three years at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center, we have come home to Alabama with our miracle child, AJ, to build a new life near family. This is our journey to creating our "forever home."
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My soldier's war injuries aren't as obvious or devastating but yes, when War comes home it stays. Somedays, I almost forget it is there, but others it is front and center. One thing that really helped me was a book "When War Comes Home". I still have days I cry for the empty couch, for the weekends he isn't home because the army is 24/7, even when it makes no sense. With you in spirit!
ReplyDeleteSending hugs and will be praying for you and your family. May God's comfort surround you and sustain you both.
ReplyDeleteOh man, I'm sorry it's so...unpredictable. I am with you, I wake everyday not knowing if I'm going to be going to work or driving to the hospital for an emergency appointment. They did their time, they gave so so much, when is it our time? Never I suppose and I just hate the though of that.
ReplyDeleteHang in there - you are doing an amazing job my fiend.
and that should say friend :)
ReplyDelete