Five Years

I meant to write about this back when we moved and I first noticed it, and then I got busy, doing … um…. important stuff. Like …well ….. you know, just stuff. Then I wanted to do it in March to actually commemorate the *real* five year anniversary, and then got busy, what with the other …. Um …. Stuff.

So today, on this first day of April, I’m going to address it before another week or month or year slips by.

One of the things I noticed when we moved here to OKC, and I was unpacking our household items, specifically clothing, was that the blue pants that go with Blaine’s dress-blue uniform had dust on them. For some unknown reason (and perhaps we should address this in the comment section because as far as I’m concerned, it’s a topic worthy of an entire debate all to itself) Blaine likes to hang his pants folded over on the hanger. Me? I’m a clip kind of gal, and prefer to hang my pants long ways, clipped from the waist. Well, that’s technically not true. I do fold dress pants over on the hanger, but I hang jeans from the waist, whereas Blaine insists on folding jeans over the hanger, which I tell him takes up way more space in the closet than is necessary but does he listen to me? No, he doesn’t. So what do you think? Jeans, folded, or clipped???

What was I talking about?

Oh, yeah, his dress blue pants. When I took them out of the box the movers had put them in and hung them in his closet, I noticed that the crease, where they lay over the hanger, had dust on it. A pretty substantial line of dust. And I thought, “Holy cow, I must be the worst housekeeper in the world, that his pants are dusty from hanging in the closet.”

And then I thought about it --- wait a second, when was the last time Blaine wore those pants? How long, exactly, had they been hanging in our closet?? See, when our country was declared at war, Congress (or somebody) passed a rule (or something) that all military members were to dress in their fatigues every day, not just Fatigue Fridays, to signify the fact our country is at war.

Blaine has been wearing fatigues since the war started ….. and hasn’t worn his dress blues that entire time …. Which means ….. they’ve been hanging in our closet …… and therefore, we have been at war …………. FIVE YEARS.

You know how I can remember that?

Because Blaine was diagnosed with cancer in February of 2003. He had his first surgery, to remove the initial tumor, in March of 2003. It was a pretty big surgery, and they removed not only the tumor, but his cheekbone, soft palate, hard palate, and teeth as well. So he spent a decent amount of time recovering in the Army hospital in Augusta, and I remember, clear as day, sitting on his hospital bed with him, spoon-feeding him disgusting chicken broth and sneaking in cups of black coffee, watching the television, the night that President Bush declared we were at war.

There was definitely a tension, or maybe just a feeling, in the air ---- we were on a military base, in an Army hospital, surrounded by active duty and veterans, for goodness sake. Of course emotions probably were a little tense, considering these people knew they would be affected.

And I also clearly remember thinking, “This is a big deal. We are at war. I know this is a big deal, in fact, but right now I can’t focus on that because I am focusing on Blaine. I’ll have time to focus on that later.”

Who knew we would have THIS MUCH LATER to focus on it?

And of course, for some, the opposite has happened. So much time has gone by that many have not only lost focus, but it’s faded so far into the background that at times even I will look up at a news report or a magazine article and think, “Oh, wow, that’s right. We’re still at war.”

I’m not sure how I feel about it. The war, I mean. I agree with the people who say they want to see all our troops brought back home safely; that this has gone on too long. I also agree with our friend Gary, who deployed there twice, and who said he felt frustrated that the GOOD that is being accomplished there isn’t being reported to the general public. I agree that we shouldn’t pull out too quickly and stop the forward momentum and progress we've made …. I also feel that at *some* point, shouldn’t the Iraqi people be able to police themselves? Again, with the wishy-washiness, and why you never want me on a jury.

But the one thing I know for sure is that we can’t stop supporting the troops that are there, and the families they’ve left behind. Or stop thinking of them as anything other than heroes, no matter your personal opinion about the war, or how long it is lasting.

As we’re meeting new people here, many are surprised to find out Blaine is active duty. They think we’ve returned here to retire …. Or, they just didn’t know us before, and seem surprised to realize (or remember) that there is a military base only half an hour from where we live. There is often this pregnant pause …. Then a sort of bewildered, “So, you’re actually IN the military? Now?? Like, active duty???”

Often, that is followed with, “Have you been to Iraq yet?”

Bottom line, Blaine hasn’t been to Iraq, or Afghanistan, or Qatar (sp?), or any place like that, because he has/had cancer. He is considered non-deployable due to his medical needs, and although he can travel for the military, it won’t be outside of the continental United States. He can still work, still do his job and do it well, but he needs to have access to the kind of health care that they can’t provide in a tent in the middle of a sandbar in Baghdad.

He doesn’t want to explain all that to total strangers, though, so he normally just says a simple “no”. The other day, however, we got the strangest reaction. The lady looked him right in the eye, after he said no, and said, very emphatically, “Good for you …. GOOD for you!”

And I thought ….. “Huh????” Did she mean good that he’d been lucky and didn’t have to leave his family? Because that implies the men and women serving over there are UNlucky? When in actuality, they are accomplishing great things. Or, good because she disagrees with the war and thought he was making some sort of political statement by not going? (Like he would have any say in the matter under different circumstances???) What, exactly, did she mean? I don’t think she was being malicious in any way, but I wasn’t quite sure what she meant.

His name has come up twice to be deployed. Both times, he’s been turned down, passed over, whatever you want to call it. Both times, that means someone else has had to go in his place. He’s not happy about that, but we both understand why its necessary. And sure, I’ll admit, I’m glad he’s stayed home, but would I trade? Trade his having cancer for a six month or twelve month or shoot, even twenty-four months stint overseas? Seriously? I’d have his bags packed so fast he wouldn’t know what hit him. Because five years is a long damn time to be messing with the treatment and side effects from the treatment of cancer.

It’s also a long damn time for our country to be at war, and I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent about Blaine.

So today, April 1st, as we officially enter the first month of the sixth year of the war, please take just a minute to say a silent thank you to the men and women who have served, who are currently serving, and who will be serving in Iraq. Again, no matter your personal opinions, they are making huge sacrifices, and there is no end in sight.

I guess sometimes it takes a little dust to remind us of what’s important.

HAPPY FALL YA’LL!

(or, let’s discuss some other inane regional colloquialisms)

Week #13 of LTM

I appear to be having an identity crisis.

Wait, let me say that in a way that will be more clear to my friends back home: “Ya’ll, I’m fixin’ to have an identity crisis!”

This is a problem that plagues military families fairly often, I believe. Blaine and I are on our 8th military assignment (11 moves total) in 17 years of marriage. In the military, when people ask “Where are you from?” the question they usually get in return is “Do you mean where is my *home*? Or where were we stationed before here?” -- Because everyone knows those are two totally separate things.

We’re from Oklahoma --- where *is* that, exactly? To the people we met when we were stationed in California, it’s in the east. To the people we met when we were stationed in Alabama, it’s in the west. To the people here in Georgia, Oklahoma is definitely NOT the South, and to the friends we made in Ohio, it’s definitely NOT the North. I say “ya’ll” and “fixin’ to” …. and then I get funny looks in local restaurants here when I ask for “pop”.

When my kids are “ill”, that means they are sick. When Georgia kids are “ill”, that means they are acting like brats. Did you know that when people from the South “carry” someone, that means they are driving them somewhere? And in North Dakota, it’s common to get an invitation to “go with” …. as in, “I’m going to the mall, do you want to go with?” (I never *did* get used to that one … proper grammar, in my opinion, is “I’m fixin’ to go to the mall, do you want to go with me?” Ha!)

For military folk, this is the time of year when NEXT year’s pcs’s (permanent change of stations, for you non-government types) are being announced. In the past few weeks, three of my friends have found out they are moving. All the moves were expected, no big surprise there; it’s the anticipation of *where* that makes it such an exciting and stressful time. Where are you moving, and how different will it be?

But not us. We’re going big fat nowhere. After two years in Georgia, we were slated to move last summer. It’s rare to stay anywhere more than two years, and Blaine had been chosen for a job in Copenhagen, of all places. Up to that point, our personal motto could have been: "Join the Air Force, See the Midwest". Can you imagine Copenhagen??? My geography is pretty terrible, but I’m almost sure that’s not even in the United States!!!

Instead, we got a 26-month pass to Leukemia-Land. The first thing we did, after getting Kendrie started on her treatment and reclaiming our sanity, was to request a one-year extension here in Georgia. We wanted Kendrie to finish as much of her treatment as possible in one location. Luckily for us, a proverbial good-luck break landed right in Blaine’s camo-clad lap and thanks to a new job, he was extended here for TWO additional years. So she’ll get to finish ALL of her treatment with the same doctor -- who we love -- which thrills us to no end. Also, my kids will get FOUR years in the same school system -- military parents everywhere are shaking their heads in awe and disbelief!

It does make me wonder about my kids, though. Brayden, born in Oklahoma, is a Sooner born and a Sooner bred. And when she dies she’ll be Sooner dead. (Hey, I didn’t make that up, it’s the words to the actual song.) Kellen, born in California, the quintessential Beach-Boy surfer dude? Nope, he prefers pools to the ocean. And Kendrie, born in Ohio -- a Buckeye, of all things? After four years in Georgia, aren’t they all a little bit peach-ish?

The down side to staying in Georgia for four years is watching the friends we have made here move on … and move away. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful beyond belief that we are staying here. Even when the summer ants are invading my home and the gnats from the nearby peach orchards are driving me crazy and the humidity is three thousand percent in July, I am grateful to be here, and to stay at Scottish Rite. But who will be left to invite, when the time comes to plan Kendrie’s off-treatment party? Many of the people who rallied ‘round us in the beginning are no longer here, which makes me a little sad. I'ts a bizarre, unusual feeling to be "left behind" in the military. Of course, it's also a bizarre, unusual feeling to be told your 4-yr old has cancer, so you'd think I'd be getting used to it, wouldn't you? :)

And I wonder if I’m losing my identity as a cancer patient’s mom, now that Kendrie no longer looks sick. She’s gone from the hideous “chemo-falling out hair” to “little bald kid” to “what a cute pixie cut” to “dear Lord lady, can’t you do something with that kid’s hair?”

She woke up this morning with her first official case of bed head!!! (Trust me, it was a cause for celebration as far as I’m concerned!) But people see her, looking good and doing well, and they forget she has cancer. I get asked fairly often, “You mean she’s still on chemotherapy?” Trust me, if a bald head was the only indicator of illness, then both her grandpa’s have WAY more to worry about than she does!

Despite the oddness of four years in one location, we are still a military family. Despite the pink cheeks and healthy appetite and boundless (freakin’ boundless!) energy level, she is still a child with cancer. I still panic when she complains of back pain, like she has done every day this week. She still had to take her eight and a half pills before bed tonight, two hours after dinner and one hour before bed and no milk or dairy for two hours in either direction despite the steroid craving for grilled cheese sandwich that the parent has to deny.

I know the day will come again when our biggest stress factor will be an upcoming move, and the anxiety and excitement of how will we like our new home, and how different things might be. Until then, my message to the state of Georgia is “Thanks, ya’ll, for being a decent place to get stuck for four years!” Even if I am having an identity crisis from being in one place so long.

Hope you all have a great night,

Kristie, who isn’t quite sure where she belongs, but she’s fixin’ to go to bed and quit worrying about it!
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KENDRIE’S PERSPECTIVE:

WORST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:

My back is hurting me. I can’t imagine it’s from my back poke -- that was seven days ago! It’s most likely simple growing pains, and I’m tired of the look of worry on my mom’s face every time I ask for the purple medicine. Can’t she just give me the medicine and leave me alone? She doesn’t have to worry about her place as a military wife; she’s got a full-time job as a worry-wart!

BEST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:

I got an envelope from my cousin Paxton who lives in Texas, with her Pennies for Patients money! It is a donation for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and I think it’s great that she did the work and collected the money and sent it to me. Thanks, Paxton!