Better.

I keep saying that, don't I? September 11th came and went. I felt Alex's presence and loss all day. It was also the day last year I and Aaron's parents traveled to Germany to be with him, so I think that was more difficult to swallow than the anniversary of the day he was injured. On the 12th, the injured Aaron became a part of our lives and on the 13th we arrived here.

It's been harder lately. I feel some mad anger coming on. We have been lapped in so many ways by so many other warriors who have come months after Aaron. I think I've talked about this before, so skip if you've already heard it. It's not that I am not thrilled for everyone- jeez, that's easy. Why wouldn't I be? This sucks for every single family that has to come here and recover from amputations. It's a real bitch, you know?! I'm ecstatic for anyone who makes another big step in getting closer to their new normal. It's not jealousy, either. It is very clearly frustration with our own situation. I feel like we must be doing something wrong to not be farther along. I want to "fix" it but that's not how it's done here. And it seems like not too many leaps and bounds will be made until after the new year, so the frustration level has definitely peaked. At least, I hope so.

I do remind myself everyday not to focus on what we don't have but what we do. I have an incredible marriage and honestly, that's all I really need. We're having a good time. I just want more for Aaron. We're so far behind. We aren't young. Who ever plans to not settle down, have kids, until they're nearly 40? The Army is a nomadic existence but most people still progress as a family. We aren't anywhere close to being able to call a home ours and worrying about babies. It'd be easier if we were 23, but that's just not the case. I am concerned about our late start in life.

But it's not all bad. School is coming along nicely and we recently got a membership to a gun range. I really enjoy shooting and am excited to share in the experience with Aaron. He's a pretty good teacher- when we aren't bickering the way married people inevitably do when one spouse tries to teach the other spouse something. But as always, we move past it pretty quickly and mostly laugh.

I hope everyone has great weeks! It's all gonna work out in the end, and after all- this is all temporary.

This sucks.

I can hardly handle the 9/11 remembering going on everywhere. I feel that all the suffering from war comes from this day eleven years ago. The worst thing used to be a deployment and the awful possibilities as a consequence; now I live one of those terrible consequences. It's fine, as Aaron is incredible and we're slowly moving on. It'll be more than okay in due time.

But a year ago I was traveling to Germany to see him at Landstuhl. And then after I got there, saw him, and went to dinner I came home to one of the worst messages of my life. One-third of a trio of best friends had died in a car accident.

Today sucks. I'm not unhappy to be feeling the pains of a rough first day of my "cycle" because it gives me a legitimate excuse to be anti-social and stay inside today.

Miss you, friend. Always.

Alive Day Weekend Success!

Aaron's Alive Day weekend was fantastic. The younger brother and wife, Adam and Renee, and older brother's wife and daughter, Alison and Catey, arrived Thursday. Aaron's parents, Jack and Brenda, came in on Friday.

Friday night I had reserved some space at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse in Bethesda. Other wounded warriors and three members of Aaron's medical team made it out. We had a party of about 25 to honor Aaron! My family here came too (they did so much for us I can't ever thank them enough). The wait service, food, and company couldn't have been better. The downer is that apparently private dining is one-check only, which I never intimated and she never said. It's not even in the contract. I didn't receive any help at all from the manager or wait staff trying to figure out all the food and drink. No one with us seemed to mind (thank God) and it all came out in the wash, but I'm considering writing the management. It was kind of a nightmare to be two drinks in and have to play accountant like that. I should have figured something like that was going to happen when the prices weren't on the menu. Lesson learned.

The rest of the weekend was spent hanging out with the fam. We went to the National Zoo and back to the restaurant where we had our first meal here, The Tastee Diner. It really was a perfect weekend. Last month I had my family up for my birthday, and now we've seen Aaron's. I feel spoiled!

And now it's back to the daily grind, with a little school thrown in the mix and keeping up with election news. I've thought about writing about my own views but I am not sure how well-received it will be. I want it to be just an explanation of what's important to me, not a debate on what's important for this country because we're all going to differ in opinion on that. But somehow, I feel like it's pivotal to talk about it, especially considering how I've been affected by this war. It'd be nice to at least make people think but I don't believe I can change anyone- and nor should I. It's not my business (although I will probably be all judge-y in my mind).

I hope you all had great weekends. Mine was definitely in the top five for the year.

Just a quick note about kids.

1. I yelled today, in the general direction of a large crowd of people huddled in the sea lion cave, waiting out the rain. A group of kids 8 and up were running around wildly, throwing a full water bottle (even at the exhibit glass), screeching, and just overall being terrible. The first time is when the water bottle hit the glass. I loudly asked if someone would tell those kids not to do that. The second time was after I was kicked as the group of kids tumbled around on the floor. I didn't cuss, I didn't yell at them, but I did say that people needed to control their kids because things were out of hand. Trust me, I was with my sister-in-law, who is a mother to two (including the busiest toddler boy ever known), and she was just as stunned.

2. I have decided, and practiced, telling people the truth about our kid situation. When asked if we have any I say, "Nope, and we might not." It's not because I think the question is rude (it's not, really). I don't know. I just feel better about telling the truth. War has deep, unintended consequences and people should know about it. I don't have to go into detail about how and why, the specifics of the situations, but I know I feel better having said it.

3. Sometimes I feel like people don't think we should have kids within the next couple of years. It doesn't matter that we probably won't by our own planning and all the crap we will have to do to get one should we choose to impregnate me so the point is irrelevant. It just feels odd knowing that most people who know us think it's a bad idea. Everyone else our age is doing it (and most have done it a few times by the early 30s) and the absence of kid talk for us is noticeable.

4. All of this is fine with me. Aaron and I will make excellent parents one day, whenever that happens. I mean that. It's just a few thoughts I have. We love kids. My four-year-old niece has been in town and it's been awesome. Kids are great.*

*Just seriously, teach them manners so Point 1 doesn't have to happen again. It. Was. Ridiculous.

Day 365: Alive Day!

Well, it was exactly one year ago (right now)  two strangers were in the process of telling me my husband had been badly hurt in Afghanistan. This is Aaron's Alive Day. So what does one do for the anniversary of the day life truly started over, as opposed to ending?

You celebrate it. You don't focus on all the awful, you bathe in the light of the glorious success and recovery that has happened since then. A year ago, he was nearly dead. But not once has he been angry, bitter, or given up. Not once has this family (his and mine) lost sight of what's important. We have all forged wonderful bonds that I'm not sure can ever be broken.

I can look back and remember the friends who surrounded me in the immediate hours. I can be thankful that the 760th's commander was the one who ultimately told me Aaron had lost his legs, instead of a stranger to my face or on the phone. I can recall all the wonderful people who made sure that we were going to be okay. My sister-in-law was there that night, and my mom early the next morning. Meals were cooked for us. My dogs were taken care of by a great family. Friends visited Aaron in Germany before I and his parents could get there. I couldn't begin to name everyone who is responsible for making sure I and my family were cared for. We have everything to be grateful for and nothing to regret.

Aaron, oh Aaron. You make this so easy. You make this so real. We bicker and move on. We cuddle every day, much of it at your insistence. We play like children. We have serious conversations punctuated with nudity and inappropriate jokes. You support me going back to school, and do your best to help me out around the house. It's not the act that means so much- it's that you know we are ultimately, still us, and we're going to be normal. We're just another couple, living the dream. The real dream. We might not have been soul mates when we met, but we are certainly stitched together now in a way I doubt a lot of other people understand. Crudely, hurriedly, but wholly our souls are two pieces threaded to one other. There have been as many steps back as there have been forward. You still struggle, there's still more adjustments to be made- but with you, it's all going to be okay. It'll be better than okay. We're going to live a perfectly normal life designed for us and only lived by us. Thank you, so much, for making this day last year the beginning and not a horrible alternative. You're mine, forever and forever, until we're all used up and just our love remains. I love you, I adore you, and I am happier than hell that today is here. Happy Alive Day, Husband. You're the best that's ever been, and the best that'll ever be. Love you always.