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2011-02-28

In the FIGHT... once again.

Deployments is no stranger in my life. However, this time I am the one waiting behind while my husband is sent off to war. This is the first time I get to experience life on the other side of the rucksack. "Army wife" is a term I have not yet warmed up to. A couple of my husband's peers suggest that I joined in the unit's Family Readiness Group (FRG) but the secret dirty reputation of FRG has never struck a sweet chord with me. Most are known for their wives hosting gossip fests while competing over who gets the most affairs before the husband comes back from deployment. It's sad, really. And I will have no part of it.

I am just fortunate that its now my turn to support my husband during our second deployment experience. Our first one was when I was downrange and my husband supported me.

I miss him so much and now will be in the process of adopting a dog to help cope with the quietness of my husband's absence.

I can't wait for the year to be over.

2011-02-19

91 year old Inspiration

I recently paid a visit to fabric store for my new therapeutic sewing hobby to help me cope with stresses of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). I found an old woman walking outside alone with her walker and what seemed to me as her whole life in a dingy purse which she dragged along stubbornly.

You should see the joy and sign of relief when I asked to join her in her walk. She instantly began talking at ninety miles per hour. She shared with me her most intimate triumphs and disappointments. Her hopes and dreams of being with the man she loved for seventy-five years but died in WWII and never remarried.

After two hours of walking and listening to her whole life's story, I began to cry. I am at awe with the way our new generation is selfishly abandoning our Old Timers. They are lost souls just wanting simple company before their time is up to join loved ones in Paradise.

We as the People owe our very gratitude to our veterans and their families.

When I left my dear friend in her lonely home, I came across an idea. I will sew her a beautiful and useful walker accessory bag to help her. I plan to make one for her and several for veterans at the nearest VA hospital.

Here's my pattern that I bought to help create such items:


I can't wait to show you all the finishing products. And hope that my dear friend will allow me to photograph her.

2011-02-14

Life Goes On Without a Second to Waste

... I've heard this saying so many times before. I live by it. Unfortunately, not many people can understand this. I've relatives who love to permanently play the victim role. I extend a hand to help but I can't help those who won't help themselves.

It's sickening watching the newer generation waste their lives in crap. I'd offer a golden ticket to lost souls trying to get out of a bad situation by joining the military to better than themselves but it's always the same fucking excuse of how something, someone, or some bullshit is holding them back. They're so dependent on and love to leech off others for shelter and money but never truly wanting to kick their own ass in earning their own way in life.

So far I've been losing relatives because of our differences in making it in the world. I was just like them at some point in my life where I was stuck and had no way out of the ghetto. I'd look at my immigrant father from Mexico busting his ass working two part time jobs with no real day off making less than minimum wage; but somehow managed to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. I put my body through hell to get into the military and help provide for my parents.

I don't just understand how this newer generation are exceedingly selfish, lack compassion for others and lack the drive to strive for a better life.

There's no use in trying to talk sense into them. I'm washing my hands and moving forward.

They are no longer my concern.

2011-02-10

Chicken Soup for the Combat Soul

My days aren't quite as cheeky as it once was. The only sense of true joy is that alongside my husband. But duty calls yet again and we have to make that horrible adjustment of deployment. And I am scared. Today I paid a visit to one of America's awesome VA hospital facilities for medical evaluations. Diagnoses? PTSD, anxiety, severe depression and once again, my beloved homie, insomnia. After four hours of speaking with three different psychologists, I discovered I'm hitting emotional rock bottom and never knew it.

I never was fond of discussing my pains but today was definitely a break through. I need help.

The first step to healing is medication to regulate the whacked out hormones and finally get some well deserved slumber. And once that's achieved I have to complete another step which isn't my favorite way to heal but it must be done and that is to start one-on-one therapy sessions before gradually moving into group sessions.

But, alas, I had a glimmer of hope. As I was making my way through the corridors of the hospital I was greeted by every WWII and Vietnam heroes. It touches my heart that these old timer legends accept me as their own. I was invited to join them for lunch and just listening to all their war stories truly humbled me.

One of the Heroes looked at me and said the following words I will never forget:
"I know us men can never understand the bullshit you've been put through. But I want you to remember this: you fought when no else did. You're a rare breed of woman who has balls. And it's okay to cry. You'll never forget where you've been but you can't let it eat away of what's left of your life, dear sister. We're always here for each other no matter which war was fought, we're all one and the same."

Slowly but surely, I'll regain the inner peace I've left in Iraqi sands.