I hate how I am able to compartmentalize the war…even able to forget it’s even happening at times. The last two years are some of the few in my life that I didn’t live either on a military base or very near one. I’m amazed at how I’ve distanced my mind from all that being a military family entails.
Here’s a good reminder:
I would apologize for being a downer, but I’m not sorry. I’m only sorry that I don’t make more of an effort know what’s happening in Iraq and Afghanistan. Once my brother-in-law returned from his second tour, and the last of my good friends came home, and I stopped working as a contractor – planning military blood drives, I kind of checked out.
But the reality is that the rotations go on. The number of wounded and dead continue to grow. The sacrifice amazes me, and humbles me. It’s sad and exhausting to think about. For me, anyway. There so much guilt tied into gathering information – how lucky I am that I was never deployed, that my husband was never deployed. But even now, as other friends prepare to deploy on their third and fourth tours, I’m so grateful to be so lucky. And I feel bad about that. I don’t know what I’m saying here. It’s a little rambly.
Sorry about that. I’ll come back and edit this later.