Not too long ago I was talking with a friend and fellow
military wife about the idea that the distance military life places between us
and our relatives causes us to be insensitive about the important things that are
going on in their lives or to simply forget about them altogether. It is true,
probably for everyone, that we tend to place emphasis on whatever is happening
right under our noses than on what is happening several hundred or thousands of
miles away. But does this mean that we don’t care about what we can’t see, even
if it deals with close family?
It is quite the contrary. What might sometimes seem like
carelessness on the part of a military spouse is actually more care and love
and desire to help than anyone knows.
During my years as a military wife, my grandmother and
grandfather passed away, my dad had major back surgery, my nieces and nephews
were born, my mother-in-law broke her wrist, twice, and my uncle had a major
heart attack, leaving my Aunt in a state of uncertainty as to whether or not
her husband would survive for several weeks. Throughout the difficulties and
heartbreak that my family was bearing, I was unavailable to help. The best I
could do was offer my support over the phone. I attended funerals, but could
not stay to help my family with the grief. I wanted so badly to be able to help,
to sit around and reminisce over fond memories of my grandparents, to stop by
the houses of my sisters-in-law and help with the new babies, to take a load
off for my mother-in-law so she could rest her wrist, and to let my Aunt cry on
my shoulder as the worst-case scenario haunted her thoughts. But these things
simply weren’t feasible.
So instead, I
continued on with my life as I had to. I pushed my feelings of wanting to help
aside because if I didn’t I would be useless not only to distant family, but
also to my immediate family. I had to hold it together for something.
Going back to the talk I had with my friend, I think this is
the reason some might think that we who move away, we who are part of the
military lifestyle, are insensitive. We are forced to push forward no matter
what is going on with those we love. We cannot stop time and we cannot change
our circumstances. We cannot just pop over to the homes of our family members
to check in. Yes, we can pick up the phone and call, but in my experience
sometimes talking on the phone is yet another reminder that I cannot physically
be there.
We do care, deeply. Out of sight is not out of mind, but
rather is a constant hope that our families will be safe and healthy. It is
faith that they will be there the next time we visit. It is confidence that the
doctors will be able to heal them when they need treatment. And it is trust
that our family members know how much we worry about their wellbeing even when
we can’t be there.
Sometimes we forget to say what should be said. But even though
our bodies are distant, our hearts are centered around the ones we love.
