The Lucky One

*Natalie’s notes: It is weird to write about this now. Things are really good, but I also feel like writing about it when things are good is better than waiting until things are bad. My perspective has to be healthier if I do it this way. There are so many happier things to write about, but I also feel like I have to continue with what I started. So bear with me as we explore this..and thanks for all your love and support. Please know we (and I) am fine.

It’s a natural response to say “I’m so lucky” or “we’re so fortunate” when discussing Andy’s past. Maybe it is because that is all people want to hear about the war….or maybe that is just what wives who get their husbands back from war feel obligated to say. But if I’m being honest, there are times that I think ‘not one of us is lucky’. Am I thankful? Yes, obviously. I will take it and be grateful, but life after is sometimes really hard to deal with. And on really dark days I think of the “what ifs”. If we’re talking about this at all it might as well be raw and honest. So to be honest, I sometimes wonder if “the other” would have been easier.

When Tommy was lost, it was traumatic for everyone. We all bombarded Carla with phone calls and e-mails. She had moved back home, thank god! I thought of Laura, just one year old….she’d never really know her father. It should have been me, not Carla. She has a baby, she needs Tommy. It would have been hard, but I would have recovered…would she? Survivor’s guilt.

Andy drinks – who wouldn’t? – I remember feeling his shoelaces inside the body bag… Those words are ringing in my ears. I would drink too. It is worrisome. Especially now that we have two boys. When will they notice? How will this affect them?

There are times that I don’t know what to do….is there something to do? I get motivated, I research, I talk to his parents/sister/best friend, we discuss plans, I talk to Andy, he gets defensive, then suddenly the worry stops and we go on with our lives. I don’t know why the cycle goes this way, I can’t explain it. Perhaps we should follow-through, but perhaps no one really could help him. I watch him with our boys and I wonder if that is better medicine than what is available out there for him. Is he right? Is talking to a stranger no better than talking to me or his best friend? Perhaps he’s right….I don’t really know.

What I do know is this:

He didn’t want to name him Tommy and for the longest time I didn’t know why. All I could think of was the gorgeous man who was so full of life. Hilarious as hell and the worst driver on earth! He drove that Miata like a mad man, like he was asking for it. I remember the day I drove Andy on base and Tommy and Andrew were right in front of me heading back out in that damn Miata. I chased them down in our dodge, gas was cheap back then, and he later recounted to Andy “I just saw your truck barreling towards us in the mirror”. Hell, we were all asking for it. Fucking kids!

Naming him after Tommy seemed right….what was the issue?

Then one day he told me. It should have been him…and not just like in a blasé “oh it should have been me” sort of statement. It literally was supposed to be Andy that day.

God how do I adequately write about this?….I am not entirely sure. Forgive my stumbles.

Andy was there, not even three hours earlier. He was sitting on those stairs, he was sleepy, they all were sleepy. He was supposed to be there all day, then he got an unexpected call to go somewhere else, and Tommy came to take over. Tommy sat in his place and then fell asleep and what happened next was gruesome and horrible and I don’t think I should write about that.

The first few times Andy talked about it, he was pissed at Tommy. He fell asleep and got killed. He fell asleep and was supposed to be guarding the stairway up to the others. He fell asleep and the others were hurt. He got himself killed and he got others hurt and Andy was angry – Tommy had let them down.

Then it started to click, it took so many years, but it finally clicked in my head. They were all tired…they all hadn’t slept….Andy was there on those stairs…Andy was trying not to fall asleep as he guarded the access to the others. He is torturing himself thinking if it had been him, would it have turned out differently? Could he have protected them and would Tommy still be here if it had just been him instead?

As the story is retold now, Andy is more compassionate. The anger was a mask for the trauma. He knows it could have been any one of them on those steps. And I am thankful that it wasn’t him, and in turn, I am infinitely guilty for being thankful.

Then again, there are days…there are times and it is shameful to say that it has been more than once, that I want to trade places with Carla. I know it is a case of “grass is always greener” I know it can’t possibly be better to bear her cross than mine. But that doesn’t make me stop wondering….

How can I portray it correctly? Or even semi-correctly? Most days are fine, most days I can focus on the fact that he is smiling and telling jokes and laughing and loving our boys so fiercely. Most days I can say I am so absolutely lucky for each and every moment I have with him. And if I stay on that high, then I don’t notice as much.

I am very adept at gathering the cups around the house, and fooling myself into believing they were just soda. Or opening the cabinet to the side of the fridge on Wednesday night and turning off my thoughts as I gather the empties for recycling day.

I am so lucky after all. I shouldn’t worry after all, et cetera et cetera et cetera.

Then one day my eyes will open back up. He will be mid-sentence telling me a positive thought and I will be watching him pour his drink and it will all hit me again like a ton of bricks. He sees my face, he stops mid-story, he asks me “what’s wrong?”, Hide your faces better Natalie! – I think to myself. “oh nothing” – I respond out loud. But I am calculating….how many drinks could that have been? how many today? how many this week? how many this month? how much are other people drinking? shouldn’t I just be grateful he is drinking less than so-and-so? should I just be grateful he is able to go to school and work and be happy and playful and loving to our children? should I just be grateful he is a happy drinker? I am so fortunate he is a happy drinker…..so shouldn’t I just ignore it?

It is exhausting….I get physically exhausted thinking about it…thus the attraction of turning a blind eye. I know I am in denial, I don’t need to be told. It is very comfy to live here in denial.

Sometimes I am shocked out of denial. The sudden and unexpected death of someone because of drinking. Then I snap out of it and try to find gentle ways to tell Andy “I don’t want you to die” because saying it that directly has never been successful. Sometimes he responds to it well. He buys a liver cleanse and talks of reducing, talks of getting a new job that he will enjoy, talks of the future and things he wants. Things will be hopeful, things are going to get better for him and he won’t need it anymore.

The highs can last several weeks, or sometimes just a day. Then slowly I transition back into denial and not looking and not counting. Focus on the good things….

Afterall I’m the lucky one.

 

Advertisements

22 thoughts on “The Lucky One

  1. This gives me chills Nat. I don’t know how Andy handles the things he has seen, it has to be so so hard. But thank God for men & women like him who serve. And for wives & husbands like you who are there for them when they come home. xoxo

  2. What a powerful story.This is beautifully written and expressed – brave and moving and honest. I couldn’t stop reading until the end.

    You really allowed me to see what it’s like behind the news headlines and how the real people involved, such as you and your family, can be affected for a long time after. It makes me think of all the stories that don’t make it onto the front page but should. Thanks for daring to tell and share your truth. Here’s to you and yours.

  3. Thank you for sharing this. I think people forget the lasting effects the war’s had on not only our service members, but their family members as well. Thank you for being so supportive of your husband. I wish you and your family a happy, long future.

  4. I think you should address the issue again and let him know how it affects you. He drinks to be numb, which mean he isn’t happy with much in his life and you as his wife can try to help him find what he has been searching for.

    My S.O has a drinking issue also and it was tough to watch him dig himself a grave.. Together we take it one day at a time and figure it out.

    • Very true. I will definitely never give up trying. We have talked about it a lot. And you’re right about the reasons. One day at a time is right. Thanks for your thoughts

  5. I’ve saved this in my reader for days trying to figure out what to say, and I still don’t know what to say. Powerful post. We definitely turned a blind eye to things like Jaime’s ice tea cups filled with vodka because it was just something Jaime did. It’s so hard to know if you should push for help or not. Try to just be supportive yourself or step back. Bring up your worries or not. Ugh. I’m sorry. This is hard stuff. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s been through and how people handle experiences like that without turning to one crutch or another…

  6. Know that your story is mine, and so many other’s, too. Anyway, it was mine. His military experiences – about which he was uncharacteristically mum – haunted him. And I remember the constant anxiety and checking – trying to figure out whether he was using – tasting his driver’s license for his drug of choice, always wondering. And hoping, sure on the good days that we’d turned a corner. So my heart goes out to you and I understand.
    A beautiful book that clarified things for me about my husband is Soul Repair: Moral Injury After War by Rita Nakahima Brock and Gabriella Lettini. Perhaps it will do the same for you.
    I’ll be reading and wishing for continued healing in your home.

  7. Thank you for being so open and honest, I know the kind of emotional tornado you are going through as I have experienced something similar in my past – unfortunately in my case the person had no sorrows to drown, they just had an addiction.
    One thing I really felt reading this though (I hope I am reading this right) is that it seems as though he wants to be better. When you bring up that you are scared it could kill him he makes an effort, please believe me when I say that is something. It is really encouraging.
    I hope with all my heart that your family continues its journey to healing 🙂

  8. This is our life too. It seems as if there is a whole generation of people living lives like ours. I’ve found that community is the best cure. Also, truly consider professional medical help. It is a long journey, but i am hopeful for a future because of it.

  9. It’s tough trying to give advice, when every situation varies. I don’t have experience with my husband being in the military, but my dad is, still. Has been deployed to a few war zones, and I am sure my mom could probably relate to this better than I ever could.

    The important thing is that he is with you – what a blessing. And it takes one day at a time to try and reintegrate them back into society.

    Many blessing to you and yours in this journey.

  10. Pingback: Oh Hey…….now what | pajamasarecomfy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s