Remembering mom 12/16/1950- 07/07/2007

This is the text from the eulogy that I wrote to remember my mom... Feel free to make any comments you like as long as they are appropriate:

I would like to take a moment today to honor my mother, Janet Baldwin. She was a grandma, a friend, and an amazing mom to both my brother and me. Of all the things my mom instilled within me throughout the years, the most significant to me was my mom’s unwavering dedication and commitment to Matt and me. She was faced with many difficult challenges in her life, yet she worked two and sometimes three or more jobs to make sure that my brother and I had everything that we needed and a whole lot of the things that we wanted as well.

Throughout all of the musical and athletic adventures that I engaged in throughout high school and college, mom drove endless miles to every concert, game, and event that she could possibly make it to, albeit often times just a little bit late. She not only carted me everywhere under the sun, but she also provided taxi services for my friends a great deal of the time as well. In her patented 69 Chevy Nova that could be seen from far away, she drove my friends and me everywhere. The most memorable times for me included the times that we would stop for “gas” which was my code word for I’m a teenager and therefore starving so she would stop and get a selection of snacks for my friends’ and my ravenous teenage appetites. Even more memorable were the times in the middle of winter that she drove my friends and I home. My mom would always wear a big thick parka like the Eskimos with the fur around the hood and everything. That should have been enough, but she faithfully made sure that no one would ever be too cold and kept the heat pouring out of the vents of that Nova without any consideration for my friends that would begin shedding their clothing piece by piece. Impervious to the volcanic heat within the vehicle in her Eskimo parka, she would drop my friends off one by one. And at each stop they would collect their pile of clothing now with nothing left on other than a pair of shorts and make a mad dash into their homes through the sub-zero temperatures of the NY winter.

It is no secret that Mom ran late a good deal of the time. Most of the time it wasn’t that big of a deal, however I can clearly remember my wedding day when it was time for the ceremony to begin, mom wasn’t there. So we waited a few moments and she still wasn’t there. So the music played, and played and played some more, until an hour later after many uncomfortable looks and bits of restlessness within the seats of the church, and many tears from my longsuffering bride to be, mom arrived and lit the candle with my mother-in-law to start the ceremony. I am not sure that most people realized what the hold up was, but everyone of my friends assured me that it was the longest wedding they had been to, EVER.

Mom had incredible patience. She worked countless hours helping my brother with his homework. Sometimes when he wanted it, and other times when he didn’t. I can remember being filled with rage the way that he would talk to her when he was in elementary school, when she was just trying to help, and when I would try to intervene, she would calmly assure me that everything was just fine, and it always was. Mom tolerated the regular squabbling that siblings always endure and never seemed to complain that much about it ever.

Mom worked at Sampo as long as I can remember. I don’t know how many split rings she assembled over the years, but it is way more than I care to know. I remember one Christmas when she brought a whole bunch of swivels home, I tried to help her for a little bit. She finished a hundred in the time that it took me to do ten, and I remember thinking of the amazing patience that it must have required to do that day after day. My mom’s warm smile greeted people at Hotel Moore in their dining room for well over twenty years. As the legend is told, Rob asked her one fateful year long ago to help out for a couple of weeks for bullheads. She has worked nearly every Friday since then till just a few months ago. That is just another small example of her dedication and commitment to hard work and being a friend.

Mom loved her children and grandchildren faithfully. She always enjoyed Christmas and some of my fondest memories include decorating the Christmas tree with her throughout the years. She loved angels and always made sure that we put them at the very top of the tree. She always wanted a daughter of her own and always treated my wife Joy like that. I can remember the delight my mom had shopping for clothes for her, caring for Joy in the way that a mom does for her daughter. She loved babies and always adored my sons Aaron and Peter every time she got to see them. She dutifully spoiled them as every grandparent does. My son Aaron, who just turned 9 yesterday, wrote a small tribute to her that I would like to share at this time:

My grandma was very nice to me. She always had fun with me, and I always had fun with her. I believe that even though I didn't get to be with her a lot of the time, I still love her and I really wish she hadn't died. It is a hard time for me right now. Even though it may be hard, I know that she will still be in my memories. Of all I can remember we had really good times together. She always gave me lots of presents for Christmas and my birthday. I thought that was special. She let me watch Nickelodeon and fed me macaroni and cheese and root beer for breakfast. She drove me to the fair and I fell asleep on the way. When I woke up, I didn’t know where we were. She surprised me with the Boonville Fair! She let me ride the rides I wanted at the fair. I remember not too long ago, when she was well, she always had a smile on her face, and had good things in store. I love my grandma so much. -Aaron


As you can all see my mom lived a life that I hope that all of you will remember fondly and smile on with joy as we remember her today. I thank you, Mom, for always encouraging me in every thing that I did and showing me that anything was possible that I put my mind to. The success I have experienced and the person that I am today would not have been possible without your unfailing love, compassion and encouragement that you gave each day of your life. I thank each of you for joining me in honoring her memory today.

That concludes what I read on that day. I hope that you are able to see the profound impact that she had on my life. Her memory lives on and I am thankful for her tireless effort, determination, and friendship that I have enjoyed for so many years.

New Beginnings

It has been dreadfully long since my last post... I did not intend for it to be that way, however. I took off on the race that began with Joy departing in February. But perhaps like the runner that embarks on a marathon without sufficient training, I ventured out on this journey ill prepared for the mountains that I would face along the way. I will fast forward and issue the Reader's Digest version of the last couple of months events.

Picking up with my last post, my grandma passed away in early March. She was very much a second mother to me. She was always the one that took care of my brother and I while my mom worked so hard taking care of us all so that we could get by. My grandma instilled some of my early desires to work hard, and my love for history, current events, political and social issues came from her many stories about the Depression, World War II and whatever happened to be on the news while we were eating meals together. I have early memories when I was 3 or 4 years old of my grandma telling me stories in the evening, which always kept alive my boyish excitement in magical things, like what it would be like to fly, or the mystery of Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. My grandma was a special woman and though her mental state deteriorated over the last several years, she always greeted me with a warm smile and a hug that never let me forget the huge investment that she poured into me over the years and the special place that always had in her life. My family didn't have a funeral for her, the plan was to have a memorial in the spring and plant a tree in her remembrance. That is what we did for my grandfather about 9 years ago and my grandma wanted the same thing.

However, the events that would follow over the course of the next several weeks and months, would prove to be an even bigger uphill battle than I could have ever anticipated. My mom had been feeling sick since August of 2006. She went to many doctor's appointments, but there was nothing medically that ever came to light. She began to lose weight and energy and found herself able to eat less and less. She was tested for digestive disorders, bacterial and fungal infections, heavy metal toxicity and carbon monoxide exposure. The list could go on and on, but she was eventually diagnosed with idiopathic gastroparesis. For those other than the few doctor friends I have, basically her digestive system stopped working for unknown reasons. I am certain that it was no coincidence that her health made a turn for the worse after my grandma passed away. It was apparent that depression had set in, and that just made all of her physical symptoms worse. I convinced my mom that staying in NY wasn't good for her anymore and suggested that she should come and live with me. We made plans that at the end of the school year in May that she would come move in with the boys and me.

Unfortunately that plan was never realized. Toward the end of April, my mom had to stop working; she no longer had the energy to make it through an 8 hour workday. She still went to the doctor regularly, but no new information was realized. I went to NY during Easter to visit and help my brother go through all of the things that my grandma had hoarded and cluttered the house with. There was enough garbage to fill two 40 yard roll away dumpsters. It was difficult and painful to see my mom as sick as she was and continuing to get only worse. We talked about how she only had less than two months until she could enjoy the change of scenery, warmer weather, and the company of myself and her grandsons. That seemed to help a lot. I was going through a lot of other changes during this time as well. I had made up my mind that I was going to leave Louisiana at the end of the school year and move back to El Paso for the duration of time that Joy was in Iraq. Louisiana was very isolated and most of my closer friends that could help me with the boys had already moved away before Joy was deployed. So I was working on packing up my house, in the midst of teaching 7-9th grade English every day.

As the end of the school year closed in, my mom's condition grew worse. About the middle of May, my mom was hospitalized for malnutrition. She could no longer eat enough at any one time to get the nutrients she needed. If she ate more than a bite or two she threw it back up again. In fact, once she started intravenous nutrition she would still throw up even though nothing was passing through her stomach. School ended, but there was no way that my mom could travel in her weakened state. Her doctor was trying to come up with a long term plan to get her well, but in the interim she had to rely on the hospital to maintain a very substandard status quo. As I was traveling from Louisiana to El Paso, with most of my belongings, my two children and my dog, my aunt called and told me that my mom might not make it. She had a high fever and had contracted MRSA, which is a dangerous, drug resistant bacteria. I couldn't stop moving midstream, so I finished my drive to El Paso, unloaded my belongings , and I was on a plane to Virginia to drop of my sons at my in-laws, and was immediately on my way to NY after that.

Things were a little more hopeful for a while. I got to spend a precious 8 or 9 days with my mom in the hospital. The infection went away, although she still was being plagued by some less serious ones, which held up some procedures that were going to try to get to the bottom of what was wrong with her. But she was identified as a candidate for a new procedure to help her digestion. She was going to be considered for a "gastric pacemaker," a newly approved device that helped about 80% of people that had gone through the clinical trials. My mom lit up every time I came in the room, and we had many great conversations about all kinds of things. She told me stories about my dad's side of the family and we reminisced about many good times in the past and talked about great things that we could do in the future.

As the week wore on, things became not quite as good. She still felt terrible and as I was getting ready to leave my mom gave me something that made my heart sink. She gave me a ring that my dad had given her right before I was born. It was made of opals. It was an unusual ring, but she told me that she wanted me to have it now because no one else had seen it before and that if it was read in the will no one would no what she was talking about. When I was getting ready to leave to go back to Texas, my mom looked at me and cried. She held me tight and her body language told me everything she couldn't. She was telling me goodbye. She didn't think she would ever see me again.

Her intuition didn't prove to be far off. She was denied acceptance into the medical program in NYC for the gastric pacemaker because she refused to complete a psychological evaluation. Within two weeks of me returning to Texas, the doctors were finally able to do a couple of procedures including a biopsy of a lymph node near her lungs that had looked bad in an X-ray. The results came back positive for small cell carcinoma. Small cell carcinoma is a particularly nasty cancer, that has a low rate of survival for those people that are healthy to begin with. My mom wasn't healthy though and 10 months after she first felt sick now the doctors had something concrete to work with. But it proved to be too much too late. She started chemotherapy right away and it helped initially. Her digestive system even jumpstarted for a couple of days and she could eat regularly again. But after about a week, she was back on the downhill slope. The doctor noticed some odd things with her eyes and after an evaluation by the neurologist, it was determined that the cancer had spread to her brain.

I received word that my mom's passing was imminent. Leaving at this time was difficult. Aaron's birthday was the 9th of July and I knew that leaving would mean that he wouldn't have either parent there for him on his birthday. I notified the Red Cross and they sent Joy home on emergency leave. We arrived in the evening of the 6th of July. My mom had been told that we were coming and that seemed to be the only thing the she was holding on for. Nothing could have prepared me for the way that my mom looked that evening. Her face was sunken, her speech was nearly unintelligible, and she was hallucinating about being at work and trying to take care of the other people that were in the room. The mom that I remembered was already on her way out, although she did recognize me and gave me a hug and shed some tears for a moment. She was exhausted and in a great deal of pain. She had weighed over 200 pounds for as long as I could remember before she got sick, and now she lay there broken and frail and barely weighed over 100 pounds. That night they gave her morphine which she had resisted until I got there. They told us to expect that she wouldn't wake up again. She was finally comfortable and drifted off to sleep. She stopped breathing early the next morning on July 7th.

July 7th, or 07/07/07, captivated a lot of people's interest because of its inherent implication of good luck. I wasn't sure that I felt very lucky on that day, however in retrospect I do have a bit of a reflection. While countless people rushed to get married on that day, or go to a casino, or do whatever else their hearts directed them to do in the name of "good luck," my mom got released from the burden of this life and the prison that her body had become. In my life I have seen God do amazing healing of people that were in worse shape than my mom. But more often than not, He doesn't. I don't pretend to know why, but I do know that while that my faith pales in comparison with the likes of Job, I still don't blame God in the midst of loss. And even though, I would much rather have my mom here today, I know that her healing came from being able to go to a better place and be with Him.

We had a memorial service for my mom the next week. She had wanted to donate her body to science like both my grandma and grandpa had done, but unfortunately it wasn't possible because she contracted MRSA again before she died. It is highly contagious and dangerous, so the medical center would not take her. She didn't want a big funeral or burial or anything, so she was cremated. My childhood friend Woodly, who recently took over as the pastor of Redeeming Love Fellowship, was gracious and agreed to do his first funeral. I told him that at least if he messed it up, that he wouldn't have to worry about offending the family. It was some much needed comic relief in the midst of everything. The memorial also honored my grandmother, because with my mom's illness we were never able to do anything for her like we had intended. I wrote a eulogy to honor my mom's memory. She was a pillar of strength to me and I believe that the words that I shared did a good job of remembering her. I will share those words with you in my next post to commemorate the wonderful woman that she was. The service was outstanding, and I am thankful to those around me that made it as great a success that a loss could ever be.

I returned to El Paso, and Joy got to spend about a week with the boys before returning to Iraq. Life has gone forward, albeit a little slowly. I hope to be able to continue with updates through this blog. In some ways I regret not being stronger and able to chronicle my thoughts and feelings more regularly throughout this time. I started this blog with the intention of providing hope and insight, along with some much needed humor to others facing difficult trials. Somewhere along the way in the last couple of months I lost my inspiration and vision for that and I wasn't sure that I had much to offer or give. I am not sure if this post will provide any of those things that I set out to do. It will however provide some much needed catharsis and resolution of my own feelings and grief over this period. Thank you to my friends and family that made this difficult time more bearable. Especially the Vidas which have poured their their lives back into us, especially my boys. They have watched them countless times, and gave Aaron the best birthday party a boy could hope for.

So now it is a time of new beginnings. I have started a new chapter that doesn't look like anything that I have ever experienced before. It is like the type of book that you certainly can't discern from its cover, and each page has twists and turns that leave you eager, yet cautious of what lies on each subsequent page. Stay tuned for the story as it unfolds...

Waging The War At Home

I mentioned previously that I did not intend to let so much time pass between posts, however I have been hit with the most difficult series of events since my wife left for Iraq in early February. Starting at the end of February, my almost 16 month old started having difficulty sleeping at night. He has always slept pretty well as a baby and usually he wanted to be put in his crib at night to go to sleep. He would occasionally cry, but most often he would be asleep within five minutes. That changed a couple of weeks ago. Peter started crying as soon as I would lay him in bed. What was usually a 5 minute routine now often takes a half hour or more to get him over the anxiety of going to bed. To make matters worse, Peter began waking up several times at night and read me the riot act between 2 and 3 am, lamenting the fact that he was alone in his crib. I would bring him to bed with me which usually helped, however the crisis culminated with 4 straight days of waking up at 2 am and not going back to sleep for 1 to 3 hours. I was becoming sleep deprived, and losing my usually optimistic perspective on life. He had been playing with his ears a little bit, so I set up a doctor's appointment to investigate the culprit of my new found sleepless nights.

His ears were a little red, so the doctor prescribed an antibiotic to help his ears clear up. However, the actual source of his discomfort was what I assumed was just a normal cold. The doctor said that his "cold" was more likely RSV. RSV is a respiratory virus that commonly affects infants and small children. His oxygen level was a little low in the doctor's office and there was some wheezing in his lungs. They gave him a breathing treatment and prescribed some liquid steroids to help his breathing. He improved dramatically the first day of treatment, and much to my delight, he is sleeping much better again. He still wakes up some nights not wanting to be alone, but that is much more manageable because he goes back to sleep quickly. But the nights of giving up on sleep and catching the 4am showing of "The Cosby Show" are over for now.

I mentioned in a previous post that it is easy to take for granted how much I have relied on Joy, especially when it comes to comfort for the boys. I don't have any problem hugging my boys or telling them I love them, but it seems like that particularly when they are sick, the comfort that I administer pales in comparison to that of mom's. I don't have the same patience and understanding for persistent cries in the middle of the night, and the look that Peter gave me seemed to suggest that he wanted to be sure that I knew that he was not satisfied that momma was not there.

To compound the difficulties of the last couple of weeks even further, I was hit with the unwelcome news that my grandmother passed away last Tuesday. A death in the family is always difficult at best, but I was very close to my grandma, who everyone that knew her affectionately referred to as "Ma." Ma was instrumental in my upbringing. As a kid with a single mom, I spent a lot of time with Ma especially since my mom, brother and I all lived in the same house with my grandpa and Ma. My mom worked hard to take care of my brother and me, so a lot of my time was spent with Ma. She helped instill in me values like working hard, and doing things with excellence. She always had the news on in the kitchen which cultivated my interest in the world and politics at an early age. I still had a good relationship with my mom, it was just that our living arrangements allowed for me to forge a closer relationship with Ma when I was young than most people have with a grandparent.

She wanted her body to be donated to medical science, so there wasn't any funeral to run home to. That is indirectly a blessing because I didn’t have to make a 1600 mile trip back to NY. However, I think that the grieving process was partially stalled for me. It hasn't registered completely that she is really gone. My mom has had some inexplicable health problems since August as well. She has lost over 90 pounds and can't eat very much at one time and after a barrage of tests the doctors still haven't come up with an answer. I hope that this additional stress doesn't make things worse. I am going to visit my family over spring break in about three weeks. Maybe making a pilgrimage back to the home of my childhood will provide some catharsis and I can move on.

On the positive side of things, apart from Peter's sickness and poor sleeping habits, I have had a good time with my boys. We have gone to the park on a few occasions where Peter can climb to his heart's content. He loves the outdoors. In fact, when I get home from work, I have to make sure I close the garage door before I get him out of his car seat or he will cry about going in the house. Aaron is doing exceptionally well. He continues to excel at school and while he misses his mom, he is doing a lot better than he has in the past.

It has been a rough road the last three weeks. I anticipate that there are still many more challenges ahead. While my wife continues to serve in her position supporting the combat in Iraq, I continue to wage the war home that tries to threaten the quality of life in our family. The choice to get up each day, and work full time, and take care of the needs of my boys, and clean my house, and anything else that comes my way is more difficult some days than others. The battle wounds that I wear are characteristically quite different than our soldiers in combat overseas. However, the effects of these wounds can be strikingly similar. It's easy to get knocked off your feet and be down and out and not want to get up. My local pastor has always set a great example for fighting life's battles. He always says, "I am either up or I am getting up." That is the example that I model in my own life. I got knocked off my feet last week when my grandmother died and for a brief moment, getting up didn't seem like a possible choice in the midst of sleepless nights and the mental load of going to work and teaching each day. But I am back on my feet and I am thankful that I serve a God that shows His strength when mine is gone.

Safe and Sound

After an unintentional hiatus, I am following up my last post with the news that my wife arrived safely in Iraq. She has been there for a little better than 2 weeks and so far everything is going ok. She is at a place called COB Speicher, which is located Northwest of the city of Tikrit. Tikrit is North of Baghdad and Samarra on the road to Mosul in the northern part of the country. The base recently gained the status of a COB (Contingency Operating Base) from a FOB (Forward Operating Base) Contingency Operating Bases are better fortified and usually have more resources available than a FOB. Ultimately COB's will be the very last bases that will be transferred over to Iraqi control and likely will represent a U.S. presence in Iraq for some time into the future. More information about the process is available at http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/05/21/AR2005052100611_2.html

If you would like to read more about COB Speicher, like a brief history of the base, facilities that are available, and the weather you can expect in the region, you can find information at the following website: http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/iraq/al-sahra.htm

All in all Joy is doing pretty well. She was sick for several days at first. It is common to get sick when first arriving in Iraq. She was very ill for a few days, but after some IV fluids and a lot of rest she is doing much better. COB Speicher is relatively safe compared to many other places in Iraq. In fact while she is on base she is not required to wear body armor. Things are well fortified and mortar attacks are infrequent. She has her own room which is made from cinder blocks and plywood and she has air conditioning to offer respite from the summer time temperatures which can exceed 120F. She has been accustomed to having sand get into everything that she owns, but all things considered the facilities are as amenable as possible for a combat zone. She even has satellite internet which allows me to stay in touch with her regularly.

My wife is part of a combat stress control team, and her job right now involves prevention. The objective is to make sure that soldiers have all the tools necessary to deal with the daily stresses of dealing with combat and the pressures that come with being separated from their families.

Minor Adjustments

The biggest adjustment to life as a temporary single dad is managing time. Pretty quickly it became obvious to me all the little things that my wife did around the house to make life run smoothly. Now before you get the wrong idea, I have been a fairly active contributor to the household routine for several years now. Since Joy has been in the army, I have evolved into the somewhat rare (from what my other guy friends and their wives tell me) husband that can cook, do laundry, clean, and even get up in the middle of the night and give the baby a bottle in the middle of the night when mom is out of town doing military stuff. Although thankfully Peter is beyond the age where that is required any longer, it has now been replaced by Peter randomly waking up in the middle of the night lamenting the four molars that are tearing through his gums, much to his displeasure and mine at 3am. In regards to cooking, I received a complement yesterday as I sat down to eat some leftovers for lunch. Another teacher, who looked at his own lunch and then a little longingly at my leftover t-bone, baked potato and steamed vegetables, said, "Man you eat way better than any guy whose wife has been out of town that I know." I don't share those things to brag; rather I simply wanted to give credence to the fact that I was not inept at housework before Joy left.

But back to the main issue, it is time. My wife has had to leave for a couple weeks here and there but then it was easy to just think to myself well just a few more days and she'll be back. It's a whole different league thinking, "well only about 350 more days to go..." Even when Joy first joined the army and was gone for the better part of nine months, we only had Aaron at the time and I was staying with my in-laws for those months so I had a lot of help. Therefore this is really the first time where everything rests on my shoulders. In some ways one would think that there is a freedom in being the sole decision maker. I can do whatever I need to on my own terms. On the other hand, time creeps in and I find that it is all too easy to let the dirty dishes pile up or the clothes hamper fill to overflowing. Now before social services comes knocking at my door, I do keep me house clean and I keep up with everything else. It's just that the temptation to let it slide is great. I have gained a perspective on the dedication that it takes to be a single parent and stay involved in your child's daily life. And part of the secret to my family's sanity and having really clean toilets is paying a cleaning service to come and clean the house really well twice per month. It's the one area that I "cheat" a little on the homemaking. After we tried it about 6 months ago, I could never go back...

The main reason for writing this post is what follows next. All the minor adjustments that I have made in the last couple weeks to prepare for this next year have helped me bring into focus the sheer joy that comes from being a dad to my boys. I have to tell any dads that read this blog that if you haven't taken the time to give your small children a bath, you are missing out on a treasure trove of developmental progress. Peter is 16 months old and in the last week of giving him a bath he has made wonderful progress. He has discovered that when it is time to get out the bath when I start to drain the water that it drains much more slowly if he sticks his knee in to block the drain. In even more shocking developments, he has discovered that instead of fleeing for the opposite end of the tub when I turn on the cold water to wash away the excess bubbles, he can drag out bath time longer by splashing in the icy water from the faucet and shrieking in delight. His development continued with him deciding that there were clearly too many bubbles in the tub. He dutifully began removing bubbles by the handful and putting them in my hand and insisting that I say thank you each time before he hands me more. And lastly, in perhaps the pinnacle of his boyhood development, he began using the cup that I use to rinse his hair and after kneeling in the couple of inches of water in the tub, he fashioned it as a type of codpiece. His clever use for the cup came complete with the quizzical look that he gave me that somehow said, "Dad, now isn't this cool!" So men if you are missing out in this area in your child's life, I highly recommend hopping on the bandwagon and give it a try. If your kids are too old now, offer to baby-sit and borrow someone else's; it is too good to miss.

My older son Aaron continues to excel above his contemporaries in the fourth grade, setting out his job plans for the future. Right now he is running in a three-way tie between astrophysicist, professional golfer, and amusement park owner. He loves to hit golf balls in our back yard, science is his favorite subject besides P.E. and lunch, (his words not mine), and he is testing out his entrepreneurial skills with the business idea he hit me up with last night. He wants to open some sort of house side food stand after school and on the weekends. While it was my initial instinct to tell him how bad of an idea it was, I withheld that thought and explained to him the obstacles involved with handling food and selling it for public consumption. I told him about the dangers of food born illness. I talked to him about writing a business plan and the resources he needed. I thought that perhaps the thought of all the work would discourage him, however he was undeterred. He began working on his business plan complete with a menu, a list of supplies, his current spending money availability, how he might secure a loan from his dad, and he began researching if it is possible for an 8 year old to get a food handlers permit. How exciting it is to help cultivate the creativity in our children.

I am not saying that I would have missed out on these things if my wife was home, but I know for sure that I am a lot more aware of the value of that time that I spend with my boys. The army has a term for men in the military that are away from their families. They call them "geographical bachelors." It almost puts an element of glamour into living apart from their families. For me that doesn't really apply, since I have kids all day at school and then I have my kids all the rest of the time. I want to be able to focus on being the best dad I can be. Maybe that doesn't have the same sort of glamorous appeal as being a temporary bachelor, but I couldn't be happier. All the minor adjustments and inconveniences are worth it!

Where we came from and where we are going

Joy has been safe in Kuwait about a week now. I am not sure how much longer she'll be there. She can't communicate for safety reasons exactly when her unit travels. This is not the first time that my wife has been gone. In the four and a half years that she has been in the army, she has been somewhere else from Aaron and me for nearly two years of that. Sometimes we got to visit and sometimes we didn't, but this time the stakes are a bit higher because she is in harms way. I pray daily for her safety and the safety for all our troops that are around the world.

It's easy to watch the news these days and jump on the bandwagon of cynicism and anger regarding the situation in Iraq. The pundits and prognosticators have no shortage of fodder for their endless debate on whether or not we should be there any longer, or whether we should have gone in the first place. I majored in History and Psychology in college. One of things that I strongly believe from a combination of of my studies and fearing the Lord is that I am proud of our heritage as Americans. I am glad that this nation was founded on Christian principles and that our forefathers fought for the freedoms that I enjoy today. It is my sincere belief that while our reasons for going to Iraq in the first place may have been misguided, it is our duty to finish what we started. The Iraqis deserve the same opportunity to be a people free from oppression and tyranny that we enjoy every day. It would be tragic to turn our backs on our new-found allies at this point. I would much rather that my wife return home tomorrow, but that is not what I pray for. I pray that God's will be done in Iraq and that his wisdom would move among the Iraqi people and government so that my wife and all our troops can come home proud of a job well done. So if I had a word for the President and Congress it would be this:

Stop arguing about troop levels and timetables and all this other nonsense and start developing a plan where we can bring the very best that we have to offer to the Iraqi people and government . We need to build a plan for success for this generation and the generations to come.

I think that in the bigger picture, the outcome of the situation in Iraq and Afghanistan will dictate the precedent for what freedom looks like in the future. I know that in the years to come incidents like that of 9/11 and mass transit bombings and other acts of terror will not cease on their own. So ultimately I think that one of two things will happen. Either we will grow into a society that decides that the opportunity costs of fighting terrorism are too great and therefore we will accept terror attacks when they happen around the world, or we will continue to maintain the stance that freedom is more important, whether or not the attacks happen on American soil or not.

I think that I will leave my opinions at that for now. I could go on about how disturbing the Iranian involvement in the Middle East is or many other related topics but I hope that my point is clear. If we don't shoulder the responsibility for promoting peace and stability in the Middle East and win the rest of the world for that cause, it is a scary legacy to leave for our children. If we forget that it wasn't without pain, or blood, or adversity, or civil war that we enjoy our freedoms today, we grow in danger of forfeiting those freedoms. If we didn't have other countries that believed in our cause for independence and got involved, the American Revolution would be a much different chapter in our history books today.

Saying Goodbye

I have taken a temporary leave from blogging to take Joy to Ft Hood. The boys and I went with Joy last week to say goodbye for the next year. The trip was pretty good. The first night in the Killeen area we found a hotel with an indoor pool. That is a rarity in the south so it was awesome. It was a great way to spend time as a family before the goodbyes began.

The next day we went to stay with one of Joy's friends that lives in Killeen. She was kind enough to open up her home for a few days so that we could be "at home" while Joy was making her final preparations for the deployment.

It's amazing how much stuff the army expects one to take in two medium sized canvas duffel bags. I know that they are leaving for a year, but it's still incredible. There are a couple of uniforms complete with boots, a gore-tex jacket and pants, a wet weather coat, a polartec fleece, a chemical suit, chemical boots, wet weather boots, a sleeping bag, a gas mask, several undershirts and thick socks, goggels, body armor, kevlar helmet, army pt (workout) clothes which include two warm up jackets and pants and shorts and t-shirts, empty ammunition magazines and other odds and ends that I can't remember. I offered to pack Joy's bags for her. After rolling everything as small as I could and cramming it in as tight as I could, there was still a few more things that needed to fit in the bags so I had to stand in each of the bags and pull up as hard as I could. What an adventure!

There is something a little but unnerving about packing chemical gear and gas masks. On one hand it is encouraging that they have that gear, but on the other hand if they ever have to use it... That can't be good. The body armor is really cool. Joy shouldn't have to wear it much because she will be on a base, but in my opinion its the coolest gear that she has.

The few days we spent at Ft Hood went by with a blur. It hasnt really set in that she is gone. I was really worried that my older son Aaron would have a hard time saying goobye to his mom. He is very emotional and often has difficulties with emotionally stressful situations. However, the grace of God was strong that day , there were a few tears but so far it's been ok. Aaron says that maybe we can do a few more boy things during the deployment that moms don't like that much... I don't know what that means exactly, but I am sure that it will be fun.

Here is a photo from our last day together. Until next time.

Chronicle

My goal in starting this blog is to explore the depths of my experience as a husband and dad that has a wife going to war. It is not as one might expect, where I am sitting around complaining or contemplating how I will survive and take care of my two boys in her absense. Nor am I going to bad mouth our government's endeavors in an unpopular war. Rather it is my intention to cast light onto a not highly discussed topic.

Eveyone thinks of the husbands and fathers that march off to fight. But what about the wives and moms? It somehow becomes something much more tragic when a woman says bye to her babies and she is put in harms way. The looks that I get from people after I explain to them that my wife is being deployed range from surprise, to confusion, to downright disbelief. "Well what about your baby?" (referring to our 15 month old boy) "Who will take care of him?" It's as if it is an impossible notion that I would have any part in that job. Forget that he has been in daycare all along and that my wife went back to work after 6 weeks of maternity leavc. The strange looks that I get continue when I tell people that I am not also in the Army. Many people seem to jump to the conclusion that I am some sort of failure or free loader. After all, what real man would let his wife be in the Army and not join also? I don't feel much of a need to quiet my critics, but for those who care to know, I teach at a private Christian school. I teach English for 7th-9th grade.

But enough about me for the moment. My wife Joy leaves this week on a journey unlike any she has gone on before. She will be half a world away in Iraq. Our older son is in 4th grade and can articulate his emotions and fears of his mom going to a place he can only point to on a map and recall a few stories he picked up from being in the car with me listening to NPR. Our fifteen month old can't tell us how he feels. He is in a stage right now where he clings to his momma for dear life so I worry a little about what later this week holds in store.

I hope that I have piqued your interest. I will do my best to keep my mission strong. I hope you enjoy, "When Your Wife Goes to War"