Today I went to a kid’s Remembrance Day service the day before the stat holiday tomorrow here in Alberta. Dh came, in uniform. This is something he does the odd year he’s in town because it makes my kids unbelievably happy and he’s a good dad. Even though he looks about as comfortable as a very polite bull in a very loud china shop. And they did all the things we do at Remembrance Services. They read “In Flanders Fields.” They sang a song. We sang O Canada listened to the Last Post and we had a moment of silence. Then the kids laid wreaths. And during it all, it was loud. The school goes from preschool age all the way to grade 8. The young kids are just that; young. They whispered until the whispers grew louder. They fidgeted. They fussed. And teachers, they tried diligently to teach them to stop. To make them be quiet and respectful. It only sometimes worked. I remembered then those days when I had very small ones. And I would stand, on my own usually, in the back of a crowded gym on Remembrance Day at 11am. And I’d bounce and I’d feed and I’d beg and I’d do literally everything physically possible to keep my babies quiet. I usually failed. One time I got up with a fussing baby, and I went to leave, not wanting his muted wailing to interrupt the ceremony. Just outside the door an older Veteran grabbed my arm and he said ‘let him cry. We’re still glad you’re here.’ And then, with Dh a world away,I cried too. Today my youngest son and…
“Our small group is going paintballing” he tells me. “I saw that” I reply, hoping to end the conversation with my disinterest. “I signed us up.” “I hope” I sigh, “that by us, you mean you.” “You’re coming!” He laughs “it’s fun, you’re going to love it.” We’ve been married almost 15 years. He’s spent well over 2 of those years at war, as a combat soldier. We were just 20 the first time he left. The first 3 deployments happened almost like clockwork, 2 years apart. He just returned from his 4th this spring. He is pulling out clothes in the morning “we can both wear a pair of my combats.” I stare at him “uh… you realize you have 50lbs on me.” “It’s not a fashion show.” He’s holding them up to me. “They cinch. Paint washes off them well.” “I didn’t sign up for this” I huff while I pull them on. I feel like those first deployments happened quickly and I didn’t have a lot of time to process. Dh doesn’t talk about his time away much. I was overwhelmed at home with the kids while he was gone each time. By the middle of the third, it was sinking in harder. The casualties were close to home. I spent the last day of Dh’s 3rd deployment at a funeral for a member of his squadron. It hadn’t been the first. I don’t know why the fear hadn’t caught me before as…
So, your spouse is in the Canadian military? Maybe you are a new couple, or maybe your spouse just enlisted. Either way, I get a LOT of messages from you wondering about practical advice on where to start. I have virtually none. I dont know who gave you the impression I know what I’m doing, but they were sadly mistaken. I’m winging it like everyone else. However, I will give you what I’ve got. It’s been 15 years, 3 kids 3 houses and 4 deployments, and I’ve learned far less than I should have by now, but maybe enough to get you started in the right-ish direction. Here we go. 1. It’s all in the name. And your name needs to be on EVERYTHING. Bank accounts. Cable bill. Cell phone. SunLife. Everything. Look at a monthly bank statement and all those bills that are paid? Make sure your name is on the account. Because if your spouse is away, he or she may be impossible to contact and those companies will NOT talk to you if there’s a problem. Being unable to communicate with his Visa company could mean a damaged credit rating on his return, and if you can’t speak to SunLife regarding her account, you may not be able to seek any reimbursements for the extent of their absence. 2. Power of Attorney If you are in a committed relationship (marriage, common law, etc), that piece of paper is vital. It’s the difference between you being able to relocate, make bank changes, etc or being stuck without a means to change mortgage or sell the house. I have used Power of Attorney to list and sell a house, secure…
This week, the bloggers in the military community are sharing posts on the bullying that happens within ourselves. I’ve written something on the subject that also focuses on my mistake tattoo and postage stamp dress, over here You know the type. Sometimes it’s overt, when someone treats another military spouse badly because of rank, branch, job. How many kids they have, how they wear their hair, how they dress or where they choose to live. They use words like “dependa” and they talk down to people they think are beneath them. They are hurtful, judgemental, calling names, excluding from groups, popping up on social media to tear down another spouse. Sometimes, it’s obvious. And sometimes, it’s less so. Sometimes it’s saying things like “I just don’t *need* that kind of support, but if you do….” or “I’m not the *kind of person* that fits in with the ‘military wives’…“ That subtle tone that lets you know that your choices are fine, but they are better than that. In fact, they are better than the whole community. I admit, when I hear “I know what *those wives* are like, I just don’t want to meet any.” it stings. As though somehow we are all the same and none of us are worth knowing. But as I wrote my article for this event, I found the same thing happening any time I try to write about how I think other people should change. I was instead only made painfully aware of the ways *I* need to. Because sometimes we hurt each other by our actions. By the way we treat people differently, by respect…
So with Dh coming up on his HLTA in the next month or so, we are reflecting on past leave experiences and I thought I’d share a bit on how to make your very on HLTA a disaster. Because here at She Is Fierce I like to be encouraging… or at least be a shining example of what not to do. This is Dh’s 4th deployment but his first did not have a home leave, so this is our 3rd HLTA. (By the way, that ridiculous acronym is brought to you by Home Leave Travel Allowance, and is just an armyese way of saying his mid – deployment vacation.) I can’t speak for Air Force or Navy but most (not all) Army deployment have a 16 day HLTA anywhere from 6 weeks in to 6 week before the end, depending on which rotation they get. You would think it would be all sunshine and rainbows. I mean, you haven’t seen them in a long time and your being given approximately 2 weeks to spend ‘relaxing’ right? Everything will look like a thousand YouTube videos of cammo hugs and rainbow unicorn kittens…. Ya. You COULD keep assuming that. Or learn from our mistakes: 1. Raise Your Expectations He’s going to get off that plane and you’ll jump in his arms. You’ll instantly love being around him 24/7. Your children will be on their best possible behavior, everyone will get along and he will immediately and completely readjust to life at home. Maybe. Or maybe the first hug will be awkward. The kids will be scared or angry with him for being away. One of you wants to jump into bed and the…
The last several months have been seeped with attempts to win fear. First there was the incident in Quebec where military members were run down in their own country and one lost his life. Scary and heartbreaking, but seemed like a one-off incident. It was a little easier to breath after that one because maybe, maybe that coward behind his car was the only one. Then there was the shooting in Ottawa. Another soldier, this time gunned down by a madman who rushed into our Parliament. The country took notice. It was on everyone’s mind, everyone lips. It was around that time I was sending Dh on his 4th deployment. Everything was standing still. The memories of sending him to Afghanistan after 9/11 started to creep back in, reminding me of the time when the reasons seemed more obvious than they have become. After the years where deployments have started to blend together (“wait, was that during your 2nd tour or your 3rd?“), years where the quiet complacency that can only be found in countries like ours where war and terror are far removed from our normal, clouded the resolve that had once been clear. When I see the news and hear the coffee shop/break room chatter, I want it to feel like it used to. Removed. That while devastating to some, not life altering to me. Selfishly, so selfishly, I want to be one of those people in line at Starbucks who analyze every political talking point of these events with the ease of those who have never watched a bus pull away. I want to be one of those college students on the train who theorize conspiracies and…
It’s been years since Dh and I were with our parents/siblings for Christmas Day. At a past posting, we would see them sometime during the season, usually between Christmas and New Years, but Christmas Day was generally spent with just us, or with friends. We could have driven the 4 hours or so and spent Christmas Day with them if we chose to, but we found the Christmas Day trip made Christmas hectic and cluttered, and we chose to instead stay home. The last few years where we’ve been, parents are no longer a 4 hours drive but instead a 4 hour plane trip away. We haven’t taken that trip home, partly for the cost of it ($4500 for the 5 of us to be somewhere else over the holidays just isn’t in the budget), but partly for the same reason we didn’t drive the 4 hours in year past. We like our home, sitting in our bed Christmas morning opening stockings, making pancakes in our own kitchen, sitting under our own tree later passing out gifts. I’m not big on days and traditions. Some years we’ve put on a big dinner for friends and/or much loved military ‘stragglers’ without anywhere to be. Other years we’ve brought pot luck to friends homes. These last two years, we’ve gone to the movies and had Pogos for dinner. So clearly, I’m pretty lazy laid back about Christmas. This year, it will just be the kids and I over the holidays. We have the opportunity to spend Boxing Day “Christmas” with more extended family who are only an hour or so away, which is amazing and…
So yesterday, I got a DM on Twitter. And I thought ‘Oh great, someone else has seen that picture of me…’ But, no, in fact this was not spam, it was someone with a question. They wanted to know Dh’s rank before they followed me. Um…. So we’re gonna go ahead and go there, friends! What I’ve learned about Rank 1. If you’re not in the military, you don’t have one. Most important of all the points. I am not in the military. I don’t have a rank. And as amusing as this little piece is, it’s satire. No one is giving me a rank any time soon. That’s OK by me. Let’s say it together, friends. I’m not in the military. I don’t have a rank. Excellent. 2. Ranks Have a Purpose. Rank is not some arbitrary annoying rule put together by the military to make your life more difficult. When soldiers are in battle, there needs to be Leaders. Those leaders need to make objective, life and death commands quickly. That is profoundly harder if you are good friends with those who you are Commanding. And that is the purpose of Rank. It might be awkward for two people to be friends socially if one is above the other in a direct Chain of Command. It’s hard to maintain a friendship with your boss. It’s done, don’t get me wrong. People do it. But it can be difficult to be best friends with your direct superior. Separating work and friendships can be tough. And that’s OK. But for non-military people reading, the…
