Grief and Goals

 

My dogs are dying.  (Yes, I know "we are all dying..." My dogs are terminally ill--with cancer that's rapidly advancing.)  It feels unbearable.  I could go on and on about how they are the most bonded pair I have ever met, how they were diagnosed with the same (rare) lung cancer exactly two weeks apart, the expenses and guilt of choosing palliative care for this senior pair, the rollercoaster of the past four months, the lack of sleep, the INTENSE anticipatory grief that won't let up and the fact I know the grief to come will be even worse, the fact that these dogs saw me through over a decade of military wife life as my constant companions in a world of chaos...  I realize that many people are struggling and I am fortunate to have so many privileges (like the financial ability to do all that I can for them and a flexible work schedule to spend time with them).  But these dogs are my family--they have pulled me through some tough times.  My time and energy have been dedicated to them in so many ways (especially recently) and my self-worth and comfort, I realize, are largely wrapped up in that bond.  I am so lucky their lives have been spent with me--we've had so many adventures and wonderful times.  I used to say the only time I was ever truly happy and in the moment was when I was walking my dogs.

All of this comes down to the fact that I hurt physically and mentally in a way I have never have before.  I have lost dogs before--dogs that I loved deeply.  I have never lost two dogs at essentially the same time, with a full-time demanding career, with huge family commitments, during a global pandemic where I have been isolated for a year.  People have suggested I journal about my feelings.  I don't like feelings/emotions--especially the ones that are so hard to feel.  But I do realize that I USED to write about my trials and tribulations with my pups.  I realize that I once found a blog about a dog who had the same disease as my Sampson, and reached out to the author who gave me some solidarity and support during that tough journey.  Maybe this will help me.  Maybe somehow in some way someone will find this and it can support them.  Or maybe I'm just rambling with no reason or purpose because I am so desperate.  Regardless, here I am--after a LONG hiatus from this virtual space.

I'm trying to figure out how I am ever going to make it through this still standing.  It seems impossible.  But I have a daughter (and husband, career, family, and friends)--so I have no choice other than to try--not just try, but stay "still standing."  I'm searching for any way for some GOOD to come from this tragedy.  I can't fathom how that is even possible, but I have to hold on to something to keep me putting one foot in front of the other and functioning on some level these days.  I am working on living in the lessons Daisy and Claymore have taught and continue to teach me, not the least of which are to live in the moment and love unconditionally.  I hope I can come out on the other side of this stronger somehow.

Speaking of strong, the one thing I have been making sure I do during this time is exercise.  I've always been dedicated to fitness, but it has taken on new meaning.  We got a Peloton last year (I may have joined a cult but that's for another post...) and back in December I committed to trying to do at least one activity every day for a year.  That doesn't mean I have to do a hard bike ride, but SOMETHING Peloton offers--even if it is a 5-minute stretch or meditation...something that forces me to focus on that goal at least once per day.  So far, I've kept it up.  Today, the weather was actually nice (after a ridiculous month of insane winter weather) so I went for a run in my neighborhood with the Peloton app.  I've been riding much more than running these days.  (I am now 40 and my knees and below often feel like I'm way older than that.)  But I thought about the fitness goals I have had before.  I wonder if I could run a half marathon again?  Not for speed or time or even in a formal race, but just to have a goal to help push me through this grief.  So, that's (maybe?) my goal...by my 41st birthday.  I'm putting it out there.  And I will try.  If I fail, I know I can do 13.1 miles on the bike.  I just hope I can make it through this seemingly unbearable time still standing...

In hiding...

Oh good grief, I'm terrible at writing on this thing these days.  I think about it all the time.  I love to write, to journal, to vent...and, in the past, this has been a good place to get all of that done in one place.  But lately, I've been a bit in hiding.  I have what could be my final comp exam coming up soon--it WILL be my final exam (yes, the last exam I will ever have to take) IF I pass it.  I'm sweating bullets thinking about it...ahh, stress...

But right now, I'm saturated with studying so I'm looking for things to do to keep my mind OFF the anxiety of the pending exam weekend--yes, weekend--it's 3 full days of test-taking. Ugh!

I have so much to write about...K started kindergarten, Sampson has had more "issues," I had an amazing week at the beach, I turned 31...

I'm stuck on that one right now.  I'm 31.  I feel like I should maybe be a little more successful, done with school, more financially stable.  But, I'm "just" a part-time college instructor/graduate teaching associate, I'm STILL in school, and I feel like a dog chasing its tail with money--largely due to the HUGE economic burdens of graduate school WITH a family.  But, I am where I am.  And I love where I am, if I don't think about the student loan debt.  :)  So, I missed my favorite link-up for the past few weeks with "Goodnight Moon" so I am playing my birthday song today (a couple weeks after the birthday itself) to remind me that I need to enjoy this "ride." 

'Round about my 24th birthday, Buzz got me the License to Chill CD (back when we bought CDs, not just bought music on iTunes).  "Trip around the Sun" was my instant favorite, as the first line is "So I'm singin' happy birthday..."  And, as the song says, this year gone by ain't been a piece of cake.  But neither is any year.  We are all lucky to have time to sit back (or sit up at the computer and have the opportunity to be in grad school, even if it means student loan debt too-long exams) and enjoy our trips around the sun.  One of my favorite parts of the song says "I'm just hanging on, while this ol' world keeps spinning.  And it's good to know it's out of my control.  If there's one thing that I've learned from all this living, is that it wouldn't change a thing if I let go."

I'm not planning on letting go--I'm fighting through exams, a dissertation, a sick dog, motherhood, military wife-life, and all that goes with it.  But, sometimes it is good to sit back and put things in perspective.  I'm not saying I won't have a major breakdown if I fail this exam--but the world will keep spinning if I do, or if I don't.  So, I'm working on enjoying the ride right now...and being thankful that I am in a place to pursue my dreams with my favorite people (and dogs) on earth, even if it comes with the ups and downs of success AND stress.

The many faces and uses...of my back yard

So, today I was running behind (as usual) and did not have time for my usual run.  I have been working REALLY hard to run most days and I did not run yesterday (though I did some killer kettle bells and tae bo-ha!).  I had about 20 minutes before I had to jump in the shower to make a lunch date, K has requested not to be in the running stroller anymore (I get it--she IS 5, but she still weighs so little), and I didn't have time to go to the track we have been going to where she can ride her bike or swing on the nearby swingset while I complete my run.  What to do?  What to do?

[Enter my "great" idea]

Yes, the back yard.

We spend a lot of time in the back yard.  I love this house--and the back yard was the biggest selling point.  For a family who loves to be outside with two big dogs, this fenced in back yard was calling our name.  So, what did I do today?  I ran a few laps around my back yard--forwards.  Then I galloped sideways to the left, then to the right, then I ran backwards...and repeated.  About 20 minutes of that helped me work up a sweat and made me feel like I had the check in the box for some sort of cardio activity for the day.

Crazy?  Maybe, but it was another chance to reflect on our home here.  I love this house--more than I have loved any other place that we have lived.  Maybe because Buzz is here more often than at our past houses, maybe because we have such great neighbors, maybe because of this yard--I don't know, but I love it.  And the back yard is still my favorite place.  It has it all:

A hammock, under a weeping willow tree.  Ahhhhh...

A playset for our kiddo and her friends--I knew this house was a "yes" when I couldn't get K off of the playset when we came to look at the house.

This is the "cooking facility" and table where we prepare and eat most of our meals--the grill is now dimpled and without a cover thanks to the hail storm, but we still love it.

This is K's private diner--sometimes it's in the tree house, sometimes it's under the tree house, sometimes it's in the yard--today, it was in the sandbox.  :)

Oh yes, and the fire pit.  Notice the "seats" around the fire pit?  Well, those are new.  Those came from an old friend of our front yard--the birch tree.  The birch tree used to drip sap and stick leaves to the cars in the driveway, and Buzz was convinced it must come down.  Last weekend he was on a mission:

That would be my husband--on my neighbor's house, preparing for the goodbye ceremony for the tree.

Thanks to some great friends and neighbors,

And some pulling and tugging while chainsawing...

That bad boy came down!  Whoot Whoot to men with chainsaws!  ;)

It took a couple of days to clean up the front yard, but, anyway, the trunk gave us some fire pit seats.

So, that's about it.  I love my yard.  It gives me rest, play, exercise, food, and good stories--all of which often involve dog poop, but that's okay.  I love it here.  I'll miss it when we leave for the next part of our journey--we found out when and where we are going next year.  I'm excited and ready to get back to the beach--but this yard will always hold a special place in my heart.  :)

When they're talking to someone else...

It's time again to...

And nothing warms my heart like my daughter.
I'll have to keep this short and sweet, as I am studing for a big comp exam (tomorrow--EEK!).  But I think my little lady's words say it all.

Sometimes we can find out the most about our loved ones when they are talking to someone else...

We do not go to church but K has recently been very interested in learning more about God...so we talk and share.  She asks questions and I answer them--or tell her I can't--or find an answer if I can.  This has been a challenge for me as I am not the best at discussing things like religion.  My faith has always been something that is more personal than public discussion.  But I am glad to share these things with my daughter.  K tells me she believes in God and she wants everyone else to, also.  And now, every night before she goes to bed, she says a prayer.  Here are some excerpts from her prayer last night:

Dear God,

Thank you most for Mommy.  Please help her pass her exam so she can play more, have fun, and we can go to the pool.

Please help Grandma get better and walk better.

Thank you for Mommy, Daddy, Sampson, Daisy, Grandma, Grandaddy, and MeeMaw.

Thank you for keeping us safe during the storm.

Amen

*I'm so blessed*

I'm also trying to let go of the guilt I feel for my 5-year-old knowing that I need to pass an exam in order to have more free time.  I'm still hoping I am serving as a good role model and setting an example of what strong, educated women can do and of how to take advantage of the opportunities you are blessed to be given.  I also hope I will make it through this program and get a good job, so she can truly see that a good job makes for a happy mommy--who has summers and vacations to spend with the one she loves most.  :)

And I'm also happy to know how much she cherishes our family...and how compassionately she thinks of others.  I'm glad she is able to be thankful for all of our blessings.  Mommy-hood is the best.  And sometimes, we realize it most when we hear our little ones talking to someone else.

Is the grass really ever greener?

The grass is always greener on the other side.

I'm not sure how I feel about that old saying.  It's too real and it disturbs me.  I try to be a big believer in mind over matter, but sometimes my mind is working against me so that sort of defeats the purpose.  But I always think, if I can just get through this next paper, this next class, the next exam, the upcoming trip, the latest deployment, until the next raise...THEN things will be better.  But, once I pass the milestone of the minute, life is still happening.  There are still more hurdles to overcome.  There are still barriers standing in the way.

But does any of that matter?  I've written before about my quests and attempts to live in the moment.  And these things go for the good AND the not-so-good.  For example, while I keep wishing time away during the tough times, I worry about the good times being over too soon.  Vacations don't last long enough.  Days off go by too quickly--or it rains.  But does any of THAT matter?

I looked back at some pictures from not that long ago.  I've aged.  It's grad school, I'm sure of it.  I've kept my youthful glow through Marine Corps issues, moving way too often, and being a mom.  Grad school has brought on the grey and the crow's feet...and a few extra pounds.  But does any of THAT matter?  Plus, I do feel lucky that I still get carded for adult beverages and I still fit in my old clothes, even if they are a little more snug.

So, who cares if the grass is greener on the other side?  Green grass grows fast and I don't like to mow anyway.  I should embrace the grass on MY side, even if it's a little dry and brown.  And right now, while I'm uncontrollably stressing out over my upcoming comp exam, I am truly working on being thankful for the opportunity and the experience--even in the stressful moment.  I'm working to enjoy the rainy days--you can still play Princess Yahtzee and other fun stuff inside.  And those vacations have to be over eventually--otherwise they wouldn't be so amazing when you DO get them.  And I started this blog as a way to chronicle this whole grad school experience in the midst of motherhood and Marine-wife-life...so, I am using this as my outlet to say it to help make it true. 

And, on another note, we recently had family portraits done at our house.  It was so much fun!  Here's a pic of me and my old man--who doesn't let the grey or the extra pounds (well, he's lost the extra pounds on his new diet) get him down. And he enjoys every walk and every meal equally--loving them all.  I've said it before and I'll say it again, we can learn a lot from a dog!



Pour Your Heart Out: Almost 9 years

I will spare you my "I love my dog" speech.  (Feel free to check out my insane love for all of my dogs as chronicled on this blog.)  I know everyone loves their pets--as they should!  But my love for my dog Sampson goes beyond wagging tails, sloppy kisses, and long walks.  Sampson makes me who I am as a person--I don't care if I sound crazy (since I'm pouring my heart out and all).  And my love for him goes deep...into my bank account.  I cannot even fathom the amount of money we have spent on this dude.  Sometimes, I think of all of the things I could have if he wasn't so expensive.  But then, I realize I don't care.  He is worth every penny--hell, I can't even count pennies with him anymore because that unit of measurement is too small--he's worth ever hundred--every thousand--that has been put into his care.  (My husband may or may not agree with me fully.)  After losing our Angel-girl a few years ago, I KNEW that we would continue to do everything within our means to give Sampson every healthy, happy day he has in him.  The only solace I got from losing Angel was that I knew we went to every length humanly possible to give her the life she deserved to live from the day we brought her home from the boxer rescue.

Today, we went back to Sampson's integrative medicine doctor at UT.... 

Sam the Man riding shotgun to the vet

It was an amazing visit.  I am so scared to even give too many details because I'm a bit superstitious and seriously scared of jinxing things.  Let's just say that both the doctor and I teared up as I left--with happy, proud tears.  Sampson, God-willing, will turn 9 next month.  There was a time I did not believe he would make it this long.  No, I'm not living in a fantasy world that he will live FOREVER and I know (as hard as it is to think about) his natural lifespan is reaching a limit quicker than I would like.  But "9" means so much to me right now.  Along this journey, there were procedures and medicines I almost did not try for him because I worried it was a lost cause.  It wasn't. He's still here. Before his exploratory surgery, I made a deal with him.  If he promised me he would keep on fighting while he could AND if he promised to let me know when he wasn't ready to fight anymore so I would KNOW when he was ready to go, I would do my best to give him all the care he needed and give him a walk most days (even if it's a short one).  So far, he's kept up his end of the bargain--and I have continued his top-notch care and done mostly a good job in the walk department (with LOTS of help from Buzz).  He's amazing. Even his doctor today said he is different from other Boxers in 1. that he is not dumb as a box of rocks and 2. his sensitivity.  He has emotions and feelings--he has empathy, I swear.  He is just the best.

I feel like dogs have the ability to bring out the best in people.  Somehow, at least for me, they have the ability to literally touch my soul.  In the past almost 9 years, Sampson has been by my side for all of the changes, ups and downs, military life-issues (including moves, deployments, various separations), newlywed issues, motherhood issues, graduate school issues.  You name it, he has been there.  He has shown me unconditional love and friendship every step along the way.  He has taught me so many things (including a lot of medical terminology and how to squeeze the most out of a dollar).  He has been the sloppy kiss when I needed it most but least expected it, given me a kidney bean dance when I needed a partner with whom to celebrate, and been a silent shoulder when I needed a friend to listen or just to be there.  He's watched over my daughter when she's been sick or sad.  He's licked away the tears of every one of my family members.  He has truly warmed my heart on so many levels.  I can't find the words to adequately pour my heart out beyond these words written by Richard Biby:

From time to time people tell me, "Lighten up, it's just a dog," or, "That's a lot of money for just a dog." They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent or the costs involved for "just a dog."

Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog."

Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog," but I did not once feel slighted.

Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog," and, in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.

If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand phases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise."

"Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy.

"Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that makes me a better person.

Because of "just a dog" I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.

So for me, and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past and the pure joy of the moment.

"Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog" but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a human."

So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog," just smile....because they "just don't understand."


I used to care when people thought I was crazy for going what they considered to be "overboard" for my dogs.  But the past nearly nine years have thickened my skin to others' words on the topic.  Now, I just don't care.  These almost 9 years have taught me so much about myself and the world around me--not only through Sampson, but just in the path which my journey has taken me.  Having him by my side has certainly made it all better.  Cheers to my 8 and11/12 year old Sampson, who is SO much more than "just a dog."

You can't spell EmpaThy without E.T.

Empathy-the experiencing as one's own of the feelings of another; also: the capacity for this (The Merriam-Webster Dictionary, New Edition, 2004)

I have always felt like a very empathetic person.  Even as a child, I always felt like I hurt for other people who were going through things I didn't understand.  I always anthropomorphized my pets, other animals, and (at times, as embarrassing as it is) my toys.  I think an abundance of empathy is a gift posing as a curse--or maybe vice versa.  I think it is important to feel for our fellow humans--and animals--but sometimes feeling too much can be detrimental to one's mental health!  This is why I chose the field I am in--I tried the one-on-one types of career paths--of helping others who I know need my help on an individual level (i.e. working with deaf kids or kids with disabilities).  I couldn't handle any of that.  I empathized too much.  It consumed my life and made me feel way more depressed than I can handle.  So, I'm taking another route--one in which I can help people, but from a more removed level, if that makes any sense.  And the one-on-one interactions I have with teaching college kids (or adults) is better for me.  Even the students with what I consider to be "sad" stories I am able to deal with because I know that they are in college and doing something to better their lives--and the gratification that comes from helping them on that step of their journeys vastly outweighs knowing of hardships for me.

I think I've passed this empathy on to my daughter--not sure if it's biological or social--but it's there. Last night, we watched E.T. as a family. I was a little hesitant at first.  The last time I saw any part of this movie was in 7th grade, the day after my first pet (a cat) died and I sat there and bawled my eyes out as it played on the small tv at the restaurant where my family and one of my closest friends were eating--waiting for the SPCA to open so I could adopt another cat.  So, I figured my memories of the movie were overshadowed by the sad memory of losing a pet as a little girl.

But, K's empathetic nature went into overdrive. She cried and cried.  She even started crying again when she went to bed, saying she didn't want E.T. to go away.  I reminded her it was just a movie--she said she knew but talked about how it made her feel sad.  And this isn't a child who doesn't know what it means to leave a friend.  She's a Marine's daughter--she's left friends, watched friends move away.  She understands and she handles it very well--taking it all in stride.

But her feelings...her feelings are so strong and so REAL. 

So I spent the night feeling guilty for encouraging her to watch the movie.  But then, I had to stop and realize that it's not so bad.  Empathy is not inherently a bad thing--it's a good thing if "used" appropriately.  Now my challenge is to help her use that empathy positively and not let it consume her and bring her down.  Since I don't fully know how to do this myself, it will be a big challenge.  Right now, I'm proud and humbled that my little girl, barely 5 years old, can feel so deeply for another.  She shows this on a daily basis, towards other humans, towards animals, even towards the Earth.  It was just not until we watched this movie together that I truly realized how deeply her feelings run, how she can relate on such a passionate level to "others," no matter who or what those others may be.  And I am hopeful for all that her empathy may lead her to positively experience and the ways it may help her change at least a little corner of the world--she's already changed my whole world for the better!

8+ years in the military life...and finally enjoying some perennials!

I've been married 8 1/4 years.  In those 8 years I have lived in 5 states, 3 base houses, 4 apartments, and 2 houses.  If you do THAT math, it becomes obvious that we don't stay in one place for long.  And that means we never truly get "settled."  To me, part of being settled is having things that I can enjoy over time in a place--like gardens and flowers.  The longest we have ever lived in one building is ALMOST 2 years--we lived in our house in Jacksonville, NC from October 2006 to July of 2008.  My husband was actually stationed at Camp Lejeune and we (mostly just K and me as Buzz was overseas most of that) were in J-Vegas until April of 2009 and those last months he was deployed, so we sold our house and moved on base for that--and we moved to TN 5 days after he returned that time.

We are getting ready to pass the 2-year mark at our house here in Tennessee.  We closed on the house on April 30, 2009.  This is the first place we have come even close to being "settled."  And I love it here, other than the allergies and the fact that we are way too far from the coast.  But I love the house, I love the neighbors, I love the area where we live.  It is the first place I felt like was more than just a house with walls.  And, though I often complain of not fitting in in this "civilian city," I know that our friends here are REAL friends.  They are not just friends with us because our husbands work together or because we are so lonely during a deployment (not that there is anything wrong with that at all and I have made some amazing friends that way--but it's just different and I always worry that people wouldn't be my friends if it weren't for our crazy situation).  But here, we are actually sort-of fitting into society...sort-of.

And one of the best parts of being at this house for an extended period of time (who outside of the military considers two years an extended period of time in one house?) is that I get to see my flowers come back this year for the SECOND year in a row.  WOO-HOO!  I have a secret desire to be active in gardening.  It hasn't happened yet because 1. we move all the time and 2. I haven't had the time to put into it (thanks to PhD school and the like) and 3. it would take a huge effort because I know nothing about plants.  But two falls ago, one amazing neighbor bought lots of tulip bulbs and another neighbor planted those bulbs in all three of our yards.  I remember the planting day...I was so excited that I was a part of some neighborly activity that did not include a deployment.  I felt like I fit in and like I belonged.  I became a real suburban homeowner in the who does these homey-things with her neighbors to make the street look nice.  In my head, it was awesome.  On the outside I just stood in my yard, made small-talk, and smiled.  On the inside I was doing cartwheels.

It was an exciting week last spring when our tulips started to bloom.  And we all talked about how pretty our shared tulips looked. This year, the tulips started poking through a couple of weeks ago...and my excitement began.  Late last week, the buds started getting bigger and this weekend the first full tulip opened up--ours was the first of the other shared tulips.  :)  And today, more are opening.  Something I didn't know before is that the tulips have TWO buds per bulb this year...and I am so happy I get to see it...and we SHOULD be here next spring to see my baby tulips have three buds. 

I know this is just a simple force of nature, but to me it is so much more.  It's symbolic of something I am experiencing for the first time in military wife life--staying in one place for an "extended" period of time and feeling like I fit in...and having my husband home to experience these joys WITH my daughter and me for an "extended" period.  (Though he's not nearly as excited about those tulips and K and I are.)  I'm enjoying it.  I know it's so simple, but I love to see these flowers open in the morning and close in the evening--the only downside is their beauty lasts only a short amount of time.  But it's here long enough to remind me of all for which I have to be thankful.

Here are some pics of the progression of the blooming tulips the past couple of days...and I've also put a link to another Sarah McLachlan song that sums up what is happening here--Ordinary Miracles, which are so much more than ordinary to me.  :)



The only thing that stays the same? Everything changes.

It's amazing how simple things bring back such strong feelings and emotions.  I went to the grocery store (and restocked my TP and paper towel shelves, by the way) and had a minor flashback.  I can't believe how different things are on this b-billet.  Buzz is home considerably more--he hasn't been gone for more than 6 weeks at a time.  That's a completely different life than our time at Lejeune.  In Kroger today, I thought back to Buzz's first deployment after we were married.  I had a one year old at home, was very new to the area, and pretty much freaking out but trying to hold it together.  On one of my first trips to the commissary after he left, I was walking through the soft drink aisle.  Back in those days, Buzz had some serious issues with Coke (as in CocaCola)--he could drink 10 cans a day sometimes.  It was insane.  Anyway, I always complained about buying those stupid 12 packs--they were expensive and I hated picking up the cans.  But on that day, walking through that aisle, I made the realization that for seven months I would not by Coke nor would I pick up an empty can.  I froze in the middle of the aisle with tears rolling down my face.  I had to get it together and get out of there, but that was the first time the reality of what was happening to me slapped me silly.

(This is Buzz expressing his love for said product at Disney World last year.)

I survived that deployment, and another--and so did he.  Five days after he returned from his last deployment, we moved here...to where deployments are a distant memory.  But I still have those moments where I can still feel those feelings.  It's not something you forget--the loneliness, the sadness, the fear.  And I dread the fact that next year, we will be leaving our little bubble and going back into that world.  I don't miss it.  I miss my friends and the support.  I miss the commissary because civilian store prices are outrageous!  But I don't miss much else.  I always joke that I have PTSD from those deployments.  I hated every second of them.

But I try to keep a positive outlook.  I said TRY--and I do it much better now looking BACK than I do in that moment.  But I do see this as one way that military families have an advantage (if you want to call it that).  Sometimes, when I am really annoyed or irritated or picking up dirty socks that never found their way to the laundry basket AGAIN, I take a step back and remember how I feel when I don't have those annoyances in my life.  It means my husband is not in my life on a daily basis.  And it sucks. 

So for now, I stroll through the expensive grocery store aisles knowing that I have someone else with me at the dinner table, that my daughter has her daddy to play UNO with, that I am not alone...and I am thankful.

My Old Man

"Dogs' lives are too short--their only fault, really." -Agnes Sligh Turnbull

I used to only write about my dogs. Then, my life took a turn better known as PhD school and I got a little sidetracked. So, I would like to take a few moments to RE-recognize my best friend with four legs...My Old Man, Sampson.

Sampson came into my life in May of 2002. After graduating college, I got a wild hair to get a dog. And it HAD to be a boxer. I got the pick of the litter and I brought him home over Memorial Day weekend of that year. He fit in the palm of my hand. And so began our love affair.

In the early days, the old man was the puppy. He chewed everything from clothes (he had a special interest in my bras from the dirty clothes), door and window frames (in my first home after being married--good thing they were remodeling base housing that year or we would have been slapped with a BIG fee), and rubber balls from Petsmart (a 99 cent ball turned into a $1000 endoscopic surgery to remove said ball). He was social (he went to doggie daycare every weekday when I worked full-time before I got married) and friendly. He kidney bean danced and stole my pillows and covers at night. It was a match made in dreamland...and then the illness came. Even with his problems, he has always known how to party.

It wasn't until 2009 that we finally broke down and had exploratory surgery to find out what was going on. He has inflammatory bowel disease. It has been a long journey through that as well as the arthritis in his spine that is pretty much fused together. We have been creative with our treatment. Acupuncture and diet change has helped immensely.

Throughout our time together, he has been my comfort, ear to listen, and shoulder to cry on through deployments, various other military separations, pregnancy, birth, two rounds of graduate school, and every part of life in between. He has been a great friend. He's gained and lost one sister (our Angel-girl), gained another sister (Daisy Duke, AKA Daisy the Crazy) and has followed me through five states. Next month, God-willing, the old man will turn 9. In dog years, that's more than I want to talk about, especially for a boxer with lots of health problems. Luckily, our unconventional medical treatment has brought back some kidney bean dancing and playfulness that remind me of his puppy days.

I often joke (sort of) with my husband that Sampson is my true love. But who else could love so unconditionally?!? One of my favorite quotes is "My goal in life is to be as good of a person as my dogs already think I am." What human could be there through all of life's ups and downs and give you a kidney bean dance and a big, sloppy kiss to cheer you up on the even the worst of days? He's licked my tears. He's danced in happiness with me after a deployment or after a rough week. He really is the epitome of a best friend. Despite the financial burdens he has brought us, I feel blessed that he is MINE. And I'm glad he is mine because a man with all that love deserves a family that will nurture him--bad tummy and all. He's worth it. So, here's to Sampson--my old man. And here's to hoping he will live (happily and pain-free) to be the oldest boxer on the planet. I will continue to cherish all of the moments that he is here on earth with my family and me. And I am thankful for all that he has brought to my life from puppy that fit in my hands, to a gray-faced, sleepy old man.

Thankful

This time last year, I was about 2 months into a 7 month deployment. Thanksgiving day without Buzz was when the reality of that deployment really hit me--I cried all day. In both of the deployments that I have experienced since our marriage, the long drive home after saying goodbye was excruciatingly painful. Each time, K fell asleep on the ride home and I sat outside of our house crying my eyes out--the reality of going into that house without Buzz and knowing it would be over 1/2 a year before he set foot in it again was more than I thought I could handle. But, somehow, each time I did. Once I got myself together and walked through the door, I worked (not always successfully) to keep in mind that every minute that passed was another minute closer to having him home without the constant worry about his safety (and my sanity).

But Thanksgiving last year was rough--very rough. But I had an amazing support system, comprised mostly of other military wives, who got me through. I made it. Looking back, I am still not sure how. The thought of even one more deployment still haunts me. I try to enjoy this time we have without that huge threat (though the possibility is still there even at this duty station). But I always know in the back of my head that someone else is living that reality right now--people I love. I am pretty sure not much in life is fair, but we still have to move on.
So, this year, I am really working on being thankful. I am thankful for my family and that our core is together for the holidays--happy and healthy. I am thankful for my friends who got me through all of the ups and downs--no matter how much distance is between us. I am thankful for all of the blessings in my life.

I can't say enough how happy I am that Buzz is here with us again for the holidays. I have never been a big fan of the holiday season. Ever since I can remember, it depressed me. I don't know why--maybe the stress, the cold? But I am working on turning that attitude around. I hope I can make K a big fan of the holidays and teach her to be thankful for all the blessings in her life. I hope the three of us have 100 more happy, healthy Thanksgivings together (which would make me 129 years old, so if someone in the biological sciences could please help me out with that, that would be amazing). :)

Happy Thanksgiving!