Confessions of a Military Wife

by Mollie Gross

  However, he was too drunk to understand, so he continued to talk to us while blocking out the sun.

  He pulled out his cell phone. “Can I get your digits?”

  We tried to tune him out and kept our eyes down.

  I noticed he kept digging his feet into the sand and heard him rambling on about his toes. That’s when I took a closer look at his feet. Most of his toes were buried, but something didn’t look right. That’s when I realized he had six toes on each foot.

  Talk about “digits!” This guy had plenty; he didn’t need ours. I looked over at Natalie, who was also staring at his feet. Then I focused in on what he was saying.

  “Yeah, I see you girls are trying to skunk me ‘cuz I have extra toes, but the Marine Corps doesn’t care. They are still goin’ to send me to Iraq. I can still train. My fit reps are good. I think my extra toes make me run faster.”

  I was done being polite. I had gone through seven months without my husband. I had bit my tongue a hundred times in public when strangers said outrageous things about my husband or the war. But I could no longer remain silent as this drunk kid tried to hit on us. I burst out laughing; so did Nat. He found out the hard way that we weren’t interested. He finally walked away.

  You know, those extra toes really did help him move quickly.

  REVEALED

  “War does not build character; it reveals it.” Jon had read that quote while overseas.

  No other statement summed up the journey of my character over those four years and two wartime deployments. I look back now and see how much I learned after that first deployment, and how I matured. The Silent Ranks experience the effects of war as well. We just do it on the home front.

  During that time in my life, I was at my best when I had to be and at my worst when I was at my lowest. I can honestly say I never failed my friends, my husband, or myself. “I never turned to booze, drugs, gossip, adultery, or any behavior I would be truly ashamed of. Sure, I was a little sassy at times, and I had to grieve alone at home and miss a few get-togethers, but I never took anyone down with me.”

  I remember one tantrum I had while Jon was gone on his second deployment. I can’t tell you what set me off, but I was screaming, pounding my fist into the ground, yelling, cursing Jon out, and kicking my legs as I was face down on the floor. Sobs rang out of me.

  I emitted guttural sounds—like a child unable to calm down. I carried on for at least twenty minutes.

  Finally, Michelle tried to call, but I wouldn’t answer. I continued to carry on finally crying out to God to hold and comfort me. When I calmed down, I went into the bathroom and splashed water on my face.

  When I checked the message from Michelle, I heard the panic in her voice. That’s when I realized I was a 25-year-old baby throwing a fit. I had held all my anger inside for months, but it had finally exploded.

  Most of the time, I chose to cry privately in my home.

  I was not the only one.

  Members of the Silent Ranks keep brave faces around each other or in public. It was critical because we needed each other’s strength.

  There were a few wives who could not handle the stresses of military life or deployment at all. One called me to report she had been hiding under her bed since her husband told her he was being shipped out. I wondered how she got to the phone.

  That was a little too much drama, even for me.

  I hated to do it, but I distanced myself from the weak during those months. I didn’t need anyone bringing me down farther than I already was.

  Natalie and Kat became my constant companions throughout both deployments. Michelle and her family were right next door. We didn’t pull each one down. If one of us was upset, we stayed away from each other.

  If we noticed one of us had been pulling away for too long, we would go to her house and draw her out.

  True friendship means being patient and understanding with each other, but being careful about not dragging others down with you.

  STAGES

  You go through the stages of grief when your husband leaves. I have talked about this a bit before, but not quite like this. Recognize these stages.

  First, there is denial that he will actually leave. You try to convince yourself that he may not deploy. Once he leaves, you feel the shock that he will be gone for a length of time.

  Then you get really angry. It floods over you.

  You think: “Why do you have to do everything alone? Why does this have to break right after he leaves?”

  Until you accept the reality that you are alone and stop fighting it, you will find yourself in turmoil.

  Acceptance is the key for all military wives. You have to accept and be satisfied that this is your life. This is your sacrifice and your cross to bear. If you want a life with the man you love, then recognize you are being called to serve alongside him.

  About the time you accept being alone, is the time for a “halfway celebration.” These celebrations would really piss me off, because you are halfway—and still have so much more time to go.

  YOU’RE A SURVIVOR

  The last stage is when you discover you have found your groove. You’re finally comfortable. You’ve developed a routine and then the news arrives that they’re coming home. That’s when the panic starts. You alternate between nesting and freaking out.

  Just when you’ve gotten used to being alone and are able to sleep through the night, your routine is about to change again. Be proud that you survived. Now you get to cuddle again.

  Everyone may be celebrating that they are coming home, but you’re afraid something could still happen and he won’t. In fact, you’re afraid to get your hopes up.

  I realized I had to let that attitude go. I had to allow myself to reconnect with Jon. It was time to celebrate his homecoming and allow myself to get excited.

  By the second deployment, the stages of grief were all mixed up for me. I skipped a few steps and revisited a few others.

  When Jon returned the first time, I told him, “I am just so glad that I have you home for a while.”

  Jon’s response was, “I’m going back in less than six months.”

  I can’t really put into words what that statement did to me emotionally. I was in mental limbo and shock. I tried to fit in every life experience I thought we needed to have in that short time.

  We took dancing lessons, ate at every restaurant. I went crazy trying to fit so much in. I just could not shake the fact that I would have to face losing him again—and so soon—after he had safely returned home.

  I really did live every minute like it was our last, but I failed to relax and enjoy the quiet moments. I felt like I had to make a million memories.

  I did a lot of the “disconnecting” behavior during the six months between deployments. And I felt no shock at all at the beginning of the second deployment. I already knew it was going to suck.

  I look back on those four years and realize that was a lot for a newly married couple to stomach.

  But I think it really is best that newlyweds move away and start fresh. When you go through this experience together, you establish a strong foundation.

  Jon and I made a new home and found new friends together in a new place. We did this on our own without family or friends.

  We went through more in our first year together than most couples go through in a lifetime. We learned from our own mistakes and forgave each other our imperfections.

  I know there may be more obstacles ahead, but we have the strength to endure. No matter what this world serves us, nothing else can pull us apart.

  KEEP YOUR HEAD ABOVE WATER

  I have had civilian friends ask me to explain the dynamics of friendships between spouses of deployed service members. They want to understand the dynamics of our support network. I put it this way:

  The wives are up to their chins in a large body of water. We must link our outstretched arms so the currents won’t carry us away. We need to stay connected by holding tight to one another.


  Each wife must remain still—not creating waves for the others. If she does, the water rises above the others’ heads. The wife making the waves could cause the rest of us to drown.

  If one wife begins to sink, she can pull the others down. If one wife tries to push the sinking one up, she could cause the water to go over her own head. It’s impossible for her to save another by herself.

  To remain strong, the wives must hold tight and be responsible to and for one another. Hold fast to the links in your chain because you are a proud member of the Silent Ranks.

  SIMPLE THINGS

  Many military wives e-mail me, writing that they are having a really bad day. They ask for jokes to lift their spirits.

  Here are some of the things that can help you stay positive and in good spirits (and they can serve as your life jackets when you are feeling blue):

  ∗ Watch a funny movie. In fact, keep a ton of them around.

  ∗ Play some dance music and dance to it. I am serious. Get some R&B, praise, or my personal favorite, oldies from the 50s and 60s, and turn it up! You can’t be sad while listening to “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini.”

  ∗ Make a mix CD for your car and another for the house.

  ∗ Get out of the house. Walk or bike ride. Do something physical.

  ∗ Do something constructive with your hands, like crafts, sewing, knitting, making beaded necklaces. Do anything that results in a finished product so you feel you have accomplished something.

  ∗ What has always been your dream? Something you have always wanted to try, or learn or accomplish?

  Pursue it. Make it come true!

  Chapter Seven

  REUNION

  They extended the deployment twice. And then finally, word comes down from the command that you have a reunion date! You’ve made it through your husband’s deployment and now he is coming home. You feel so excited—like it’s your honeymoon all over again.

  Then your excitement turns to … bitterness. You have finally learned how to work the weed whacker, unclog the toilet, and sleep through the night without him. Now you have to make room for him in your life.

  Don’t feel guilty about this. These feelings are normal, but it’s important you find a positive direction for these emotions. Be proud that you were able to do these things on your own. He will be proud of you as well!

  Channel your energy and emotions and be thankful he is coming home. You can incorporate the amazing changes you’ve both been through as you start the next chapter of your life together.

  Surprisingly, some ladies remain bitter. It’s hard to have good sex when you are bitter, ladies. So … let it go.

  When you start thinking about having your man back in your home, panic may set in. What do you talk about? Where do you start? He has missed so much of what happened to you during his absence. How do you go back to sharing your day-to-day lives together?

  Much of this chapter falls under the “do as I say, not as I did” rule because I learned quite a bit from my own experiences as well as those shared by other wives.

  I have to be honest with you: The reunion is the hardest part of the entire deployment cycle. When someone warned me the reunion would be tough, my first reaction was, “That’s crap.” I honestly wish I had listened more carefully and prepared better.

  While I can give you some tips to ease you through the transition, be ready for some serious screwing as well as major fights. Emotions are raw as you readjust to being together again.

  Keep in mind that you are different people than you were before the deployment. Hopefully, you’re both better and stronger. It’s important, though, to be patient as you adjust to the changes in both of your personalities.

  NESTING

  As the reunion date got closer, I went into super speed mode preparing the house and myself for Jon.

  I cleaned the house from top to bottom and brought home all his favorite foods. I wanted to be able to stay home for days with plenty of his meals. I had a feeling he wouldn’t like any of the selections from my deployment diet plan.

  I also went shopping for a dress. I wanted to look perfect for the first time we would see each other. I wanted a dress for my first reunion, something really special.

  For Jon’s second homecoming I made a skirt. I worked on it for weeks. Sewing became my way to stay busy and focused. I really needed an activity to keep my mind busy, and sewing and shopping fit the bill.

  I discovered it’s good to have distractions during that last week because you can and will go nuts if you don’t. Getting out of the house to shop for a dress and all Jon’s favorite foods kept me in a positive and fun frame of mind.

  BUNNY TAIL

  In the week before Jon’s homecoming, I went to the tanning bed, the nail salon, and the hairdresser. It was like I was getting ready for my wedding all over again.

  Bottom line: I needed professional intervention for the lack of attention my body had undergone. I needed help to look attractive once more. And I needed something really extreme to pull me back from my drab existence.

  I had read a lot about the Brazilian wax in magazines. It was all the rage and supposedly really sexy. The Brazilian was a step up from just a normal bikini wax. In fact, it was the extreme procedure I was looking for.

  So, I decided to give it a try. Since I wanted the job done well, I went to a reputable place in Oceanside called Magic Nails.

  There I met Helen, a Vietnamese woman who kept yelling, “Cash only!”

  “Ok,” I kept replying. “Cash only.”

  “Cash only!”

  “Yes! Cash Only!”

  Satisfied (I guess), she took me into the back to a private room. “Take off clothes below waist,” she ordered. “Up on table.” She nodded toward a folding table.

  For a second I got really nervous because she didn’t understand English very well. Not only that, the room looked like the backroom abortion clinics I had read about.

  I tried to relax when she came in the room with a tub of wax. There I was, laying on a crappy table with my privates exposed. I kept thinking, “If God wanted everyone to see your privates, he would have named them ‘publics.'”

  With second thoughts racing through my mind, I decided to get up just when she approached me holding a wooden stick dripping with wax.

  Helen was smiling, and suddenly appeared very friendly. I began to relax. She said the most encouraging things to me as she proceeded to rip large chunks of hair off from around my labia.

  She looked at my privates and said, “You beauty down there!” I was flattered. My privates had been in hiding for so long. I did flinch once or twice as she continued her waxing job.

  Each time I did she exclaimed, “You want beauty?” When I nodded in reply, she would exclaim, “Then you get pain,” ripping off another patch of hair. I think she enjoyed doing that.

  Halfway through my treatment, a woman outside the door spoke to Helen in Vietnamese. Helen turned to me. “Be back.” She left me there—lopsided and quite sticky.

  Within a short time I could hear loud music coming from the lobby and Helen’s voice singing Celine Dion’s version of “Beauty and the Beast.” At an instrumental break in the song, the door bursts open.

  I’m spread-eagled on the table as Helen walks in with a microphone in her hand.

  “Mollie, you want sing Karaoke? I put you on list. You’re next!”

  And then she slams the door!

  Three minutes later she returned to the task of grooming privates.

  “God I hope you washed your hands,” I prayed. She was not even wearing gloves.

  At this point, I could hear the next Karoke contestant singing “Vogue” by Madonna.

  Helen chatted on while she tediously labored away. “Your husband will kiss more now … down there!” Even I didn’t know how to reply to that.

  “Lift leg,” instructed Helen. As I did, I felt something warm in a place that usually felt kind of dirty. What was she doing?r />
  “Ah, what are you doing down there?” I asked

  “It look like a bunny tail back there!” she answered as she stuck a paper strip right next to my anus and jerked it off.

  I screamed.

  She showed me seven black coarse hairs on the strip of paper. Who knew? It’s so dark back there. How long had those been there?

  You hear news reports about a scientist who discovers a new species of fish that had been in the bottom of the ocean for centuries. Since it’s so dark in those regions, no one had ever explored it. Now I understand the mystery.

  Helen finished up with a few more pulls and rips. After it was all done she handed me a mirror. “Look!”

  “That’s ok,” I replied. “I trust you.” I really didn’t need to see for myself.

  Before I could move she pushed the back of my head forward between my legs. “See, I make you beauty down there!”

  “OK!” I answered, summoning up the courage to look.

  I’m from the generation that was taught not to look at your own genitals or even touch them. I think my mom put a “Mr. Yuck” sticker on the front of my underpants. She made it clear bad things could happen if you go near your genitals.

  I took a deep breath, let go of my past, and looked. I paused for an instant waiting to be struck by lightning. Nothing happened.

  Helen did a great job. My pee pee looked a little strange. Frankly, she looked a little “naked,” but she definitely looked better. My hope now was that Jon would recognize her!

  Oh, and the bunny tail? She let me keep it. I use it as a good luck key chain.

  BANNERS

  After the house and I had been groomed, I started on the “Welcome Home” banner. Many families go all out on this one. They get their kids to do hand prints in paint. They do huge collages and add cute sayings. The banner is an excellent way to get kids of all ages involved in the homecoming plans.

  Since Jon is really low key and an introvert, he requested something small. I purchased a simple welcome home sign and American flag pinwheels. In the yard I planted flowers and dressed my pink flamingo in an Uncle Sam costume.

  It was all simple, but really warm and cute. It was a perfect welcome home for Jon.