Policing the Brass

To make an analogy:

In the Army the soldiers are the ammunition, so to speak.

In order for things to function properly each piece of ammunition needs shape, target, an order, intent and a purpose.

Every soldier enters the Army knowing and willing to prepare to live or die to accomplish the means.

The Army trains each soldier to hold a military bearing and to live by the Army Values, in and out of the uniform.

Every soldier is a part of something much larger, just as a single round of ammunition is worth the shot.

What most people, not even the soldier, really think about is what happens when a solider; a single round of ammunition is fired, makes the shot, and leaves the weapon a single hallow piece of brass.

I fell in love with an old school, die hard U.S. Cavalry Scout. He loved to talk, loved to sing, loved God, loved his job, had a plan for the future, dreamed big,never quit and the only people he respected more than the soldiers who out ranked him, were the people who loved him. His actions were admirable, his demeanor addictive, and loving him came so easier than loving chocolate.

My world fell apart when all the wear and tear on that sweet mans body forced one horrific day to occur. First a missed text or two, then a conversation spoken in puzzle, then a day of worry as we searched and prayed for someone to give him the help he needed. A night spent listening to his every breath on the phone after he tearfully fell asleep, confused and alone. A few days of calls from the ICU begging for me to come be with him forever.

After ten months of rigorous trial for us both, we still have not a clue what our lives will come to, because we are waiting on the Army. Daily I watch the man I love get into uniform, and head to work. He does all he can without complaint, no NCO will ever know how much simple tasks send him home with aches and pains, how difficult it is just to walk, or talk the way he wants, or how he can't even do simple things like mow the lawn without paying in cramps and sleepless nights for two days. If his memory fails him I do my best to drop whatever it is I am doing, and come to the rescue. No officer will ever find him to be anything less than a gentleman. No task will ever find him willing to quit. When retreat is sounded he is tired, sore, and has very little left to give most days. Our home is silent, or filled with background noise of the TV most nights, reading occupies him most of the time, conversation is minimal, food is rarely recognized as a want. Friends and family  hear fewer updates, and are seen less frequently, dreams are seemingly absent, and the only time singing leaves his mouth is with the low tones at the end of the theme song ending a Bones episode. A baby is on the way and little to no emotion can be had or expressed. 

I feel as though my dear sweet soldier volunteered for duty, was loaded into the weapon, fired on command and now its time to police the brass, and we have come to the reality, all that is left is the brass. The man I fell in love with is not really there anymore, the TBI, Stroke, PTSD, hearing loss, and lumbar fusion have left me with the hot brass. Still lit with the fire pleading for more. I know if I could send him off to combat again, even for a day, to let him feel whole again I would. But we know that isn't possible and would do no good, because he could no longer truly function there. No grown man, of my husbands character and experience wants his wife to have to take off his shoes each day. I don't blame him for not wanting to talk to me, not remembering why he loves me, or the conversation we had last night. No problem will ever really be solved by conversation in our home again, and yet that's all I want. I live a lonely life without the man I fell in love with, with only the brass left in tact. 

While I am undeniably grateful for the fact that my husband is the brass, and not the folded flag in a display case somewhere, as an expectant mother I cannot help but fear for the future. Will our children ever know the man I love? Will they question his character, or lack of communication? Will they find the military bearing that gets him through to be as lonely as I do? I just want to know that our children will never feel as alone and hurt as I do. I need to know that somehow I will be able to communicate when the time is right, or necessary, who their Dad was before all this. I want desperately  to go home where family is close enough to fill the gaps we can't fill, and where I know friends are just around the corner. I dream of the day when laughter and smiles fill our home again, not out of need, but because they can. 

So while we wait for some board to decide our family's fate, I listen to comments daily about how good my husband is doing, how healthy he looks, how he must not have been effected much, how people thought he wasn't with me because they thought he was deployed, or how they would have never known anything was wrong if they hadn't heard a small piece of the story. The Army will never be able to recreate the ammunition that was once my husband, and since the brass is left behind, the untrained eye assumes all is well. But I know better, and I pray that perhaps I will continue to be the only one who has to see it, but I know it is already too late for that. My soldier is home, but our family is still policing the brass. 

original post: Life as Will's Wife 12/18/11