Navy Spouse Shares Deployment Story

Oct. 9, 2009

A short time ago, Vivian, a Navy veteran and spouse, contacted me about writing for Family Matters. She asked to share her experiences as a spouse of a deployed sailor and a mother of two. Her husband, a Navy lieutenant, is deployed to Iraq and she has two boys who, she says, “enjoy peanut butter, trucks and air shows.” She volunteered to write about her deployment-related experiences and lessons learned, and will be contributing to Family Matters from time to time.

In this blog, Vivian shares the importance of living life to the fullest even while a loved one is away from home:

Vivian and her son, MJ, hang out with their homemade "Daddy on a Stick" -- just one way the family attempts to keep their deployed servicemember involved in their life. Courtesy photo

I was a guest on a local radio program recently where the topic was military spouse and family issues. I am always surprised when I get invited to speak on behalf of military spouses, since on any given day I make mistakes that surely no seasoned seaworthy wife would make.

Like forgetting my dependent ID at home when I need to get on base because I’ve switched purses. Or, not knowing the perfect thing to say when my son asks why daddy has to stay away from us for so long.

Certainly, not adhering to the advice of flats over pumps when waiting for a dock visit — which tops any insider’s list. However, at five feet, three and a half inches, I’m used to pains of the fashion over function mindset.

Still, I’m always game to talk about our crazy, amazing military lifestyle. So, that was how I found myself with headphones on and bottle of water at hand, should I find myself parched from all my on-air tongue wagging.
 
The topics ranged from the new GI Bill and its transferability to dependents to picking fights before a deployment — a popular, though not particularly useful coping technique, and one I use myself from time to time.

The call-in questions were great too. In particular, one woman brought up her wish to hear more talk of “thriving” and not just “surviving” deployments. Now, THAT sounded like a seasoned, seaworthy wife if I ever I heard one.

Her advice was sound. As military families, the comings and goings of our spouses and loved ones cannot halt the mundane tasks that have to be accomplished in order to maintain some semblance of order. School lunches must be made, oil checks must go on, and — dare, I say it — joy must be had … even if our military member misses out on it.

This is a hard lesson to learn and one that, reflecting on it now, I have only recently embraced. Past deployments have seen me say things like, “when Mr. Wonderful gets home, I’ll …” and “we’ll wait till next year, when the whole family is together to do that.”

Of course, whether you live near family, whether or not you have kids, and how old those kids are always play into planning events, but we military families have to come up with creative ways to celebrate events and milestones in our lives, even if it means we do it without having our military member there with us.
 
This past Father’s Day is a prime example. Mr. Wonderful had been deployed for a while by then, certainly long enough for me to feel like I had my emotions under control.

However, when the cars started pulling into the neighborhood with families popping over to share the day with their loved ones, I have to admit I got a little bummed out, perhaps even a little cranky. Of course, this feeling was reflected and magnified by my two little boys, which created a downward spiral which just about got the best of us.

Until…

Until I decided to change my mind. Just like the lyrics from the alternative rock band Sister Hazel I used to sing in college (am I dating myself too much?), I was tired of “fighting battles with myself.”

I decided then and there that our special way to celebrate this particular Father’s Day would be to take ourselves out for a day of fun and take pictures we could send to Mr. Wonderful. 

I packed up the boys and we went to a popular “bounce house” in our area. We ordered pizza for lunch, bounced till our hearts content and took a few pictures with “dad on a stick” to send to him.

Sadness and self-pity dissolved as we enjoyed the time together. My oldest son, MJ, did say that he wanted to come back with dad to bounce when he was done with his deployment, but more in a, “looking forward to showing dad what I can do!” way instead of the “poor, poor sad me” way we had all been doing earlier.

It isn’t easy and it is definitely a continuous process, but learning to find joy and celebrate life, even in the midst of a long separation of a loved one, is one lesson in which I’m glad to have finally found my sea legs.