"Right Before My Eyes"

 

Well hello to everyone in internet land. It's been a crazy few days, but for the most part, we have gotten through with only a few bumps in the road. I was notified of a medical situation that will require testing next Tuesday - yes I rather fear the testing process. For this situation, I think its best I do what the doctors advise, but laughed hysterically when they continue to say to me in a straight face - remain stress free. I hear the belly starting to roll again just thinking about it.  "Remain Stress Free", is what I'm thinking to myself as I optimistically listen to the doctors words. My husband and I just joined the Temporary Empty Nester's Training last week, the USA soccer team lost, my kids are west without my husband and I, my husband hates the humid temperatures right now as it triggers war memories, I have a friend who has been battling an infection that placed her into the hospital since early this week and I have to have a lumbar puncture to test the pressure in my brain - so stay stress free - Riigggghhhhhttttt. Wow, that was kind of nice to vent, I feel some weight off my mind already. *Wink*

Ok, so I poke fun at the doctor’s advice, but realistically, I am heeding what he said until I get my tests completed. While keep my life at the most lowest key – and still get out of bed – I have found ways to be productive and, ha ha ha, stress free. I've managed to discover that where my computers screen sits, is actually on a desk - yes the creative eclectic clutter is gone. Say that one three times fast.  It's a nice desk, a dark wood top done in a nice white wash on the sides and doors, oh oh but wait, it gets even better. The bigger discovery - as I clean my office out - I have a book shelf to match. (smile). Ok, I'm being a bit dramatic, but I'm a writer - what's your superpower? LOL.

Now dramatic, you'll love this little story I am about to tell you. It's rather embarrassing, but I'm sure I am not the only person in the world that was faced with a dilemma and the answer was staring them in the face the whole time. Ok, let me tell you the situation.

As I lay in bed early Tuesday morning I got a call from a friend that had asked me to help her put in her air conditioning unit in her windows, as she had been under the weather for some time and was feeling overall weakness.  Confidently I reply "Yes, I can come over and do that, I've put those things in so many times I can do it with my eyes closed." Open mouth insert foot.

When I arrived at her home, I went upstairs and began to attempt to put the unit into the window - something was missing and the unit alerted me that if I didn't do something different it was going to fall to its death on the sidewalk below. "Oh, it needs to have the bar screwed onto the top - One bar, no screws to secure it - YIKES!" I thought to myself trying to give it my MacGyver ingenuity.

I tried to take screws from one item to compensate for the ones that were missing - epic fail. I was baffled in my mind as I tried to wear the look of knowledge. My friend then suggested that maybe it was time to get a new one for the downstairs, "K-Mart has a great sale," I blurted out, while also thinking, "I can get some screws to put this one in and it will stay in place the right way."

Not knowing if I would make it back before they had to go to an appointment, I got a key to her home, then I headed out to the store to make my purchases as my friend and a family member made their way to the hospital. I found the deal of a lifetime and now my friend is the owner of a brand new window shaker, a.k.a. an air conditioner – no more Maryland sweltering heat and humidity.

 

 

Immediately a melody comes into mind when I think back on the next part of my story. So if you'd like the full effect - click onto the link below to add some comedic relief as you read. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MK6TXMsvgQg

 

The unit was boxed tightly with three very strong plastic straps. Not having a utility knife or scissors, I used a small hand held hack saw and cut through the ridged plastic. I then proceeded to lift the box bending at the knees and applying all my strength when suddenly, just the top and sides abruptly came off causing me to jolt back and fall onto the floor. “Thank goodness nobody saw this,” I thought to myself.

I got up, dusted off my pride, and proceeded to prepare the window to install the Cooling Box. (Deal with me as I attempt to be creative and try to come up with as many alternate words to describe a window air conditioner. Smile.) I unlocked the window and tried to pull the window open – no movement. I stood puzzled and intently looked the locking mechanism over. I discovered there were other areas that locked on either side of the window, so I made sure they were opened and then again proceeded to pull up on the window to open it – still nothing. Now the main window lock has only two positions – open and closed, but you’ll never guess what I did – turned it back to the lock position thinking it was a trick lock and tried to open the window again – NOTHING! Grrrrr! “What the hell is the mystery of this flipping window” I cursed out loud to myself. Again, I went back to the lock and switched it back to open. I think the person walking by the window found great humor to see me sweating and cursing when once again I pulled up on the window and – STILL NOTHING! The bitch wasn’t budging. I paced back and forth scratching the top of my head with one hand and the other position tightly on a hip.

I began to talk to the window asking it to be nice for me and just open so that I could get this Electric Chilling Cube in place. What do you think happened? Do you think the window finally opened?  Guess again – a two foot piece of bamboo fell on my head that had been cut and placed as another security device to keep the windows locked. “What the…?” I said looking it over wondering where it came from. Instantly Sir Isaac Newton’s: The Universal Law of Gravitation - hit me. I proceeded to open the window one last time – IT OPENED! I was so happy, I got everything screwed and snapped together and got it placed just right, closed the window down on it to keep the cold wind machine in place. I was so proud of myself – when it happened. As I picked up the cord to plug it into the socket light dawned in the dark space of my brain - UUUGGGHHHH!!!!! I had put it in the wrong window! But I had an ace in the hole - I removed the bamboo, unlocked the locks and in less that Ten minutes I found myself sitting on a chair, running my fingers through my sweat drenched hair, as the Window Wind Vortex box blew ice cold air in my face. A true Benny Hill moment - I'm so relieved to know that it's not on camera, though it would have been a funny Youtube moment.

I hope you like my comic relief this morning. Just a little something to lighten your possible stressors of the day and to let you know, we all have those kinds of moments where the answers to our problems are sometimes staring us in the face, but with so much going through our minds, we forget to see the bigger picture.  Thanks for reading and have a safe, happy and healthy Independence Day tomorrow. Blog ya later.

"The Seabee" Written by: Stacey L. Bolin

“The Seabee”

Written By: Stacey L. Bolin

Veterans Day – Monday November 11, 2013

 

I lay motionless next to my sleeping husband, tears slowly traveling down my cheeks to pool onto my pillow, as the darkness of an evening sky slowly allowed the morning to creep through the window into our room. Outside the wind howled while it danced through the threat of rain and snow upon this solemn day that awaited all of us. In a few short hours another brother-in-arms would be placed into the earth as his soul goes home to be with our lord and savior. A day that we had all been warned about - feared - and prayed that the angels would make an exception and grant us a miracle that once again, this brother-in-arms, would be healed and be as he once was before stricken with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease). I try to close my eyes and convince myself that I have only awoken into a dream that is not of any reality and that when I awake again, I would find myself home in our own bed and no illness has taken anyone from us.

 My husband rolls over and pulls me deep within the loving embrace of his arms. A temporary feeling of calm and contentment warms me while I rest my head on his chest listening intently to the sound of his heartbeat. I begin to think about a wife who no longer can do the same – again the tears fight to become present.  I tell myself, I must be strong, that tears must be kept aside, but the pain that my husband’s best friend – a mother’s son – a wife’s husband – a child’s father – a child’s grandfather, will no longer live in this present life and no longer be a phone call away. It gnaws away at my strength exposing my soul to the unanswered questions of what lie on the other side of life. To know that he will always be alive in our memories, pictures and stories provide me no comfort at that moment – I’m angry! – He’s too young! – He fought a war and came home to later have to fight a new war, twenty-two years later, against his health! I just don’t understand! My face remains expressionless, while my eyes tell a different story and reveal that I am overwhelmed with my emotions – but my husband knows and understands my struggle with grief and holds me tighter as he lets out a sigh of sorrow.

 

Outside the bedroom door, the house is still, no movement, no sounds. I wonder if this family is thinking as I have, that it is all a dream and that to sleep is to awaken to the sounds of our brother-in-arms, walking through the front door from a morning of hunting and free from illness. I listen while secretly hoping for those sounds of this man’s life to be upon us once again, but the house remains silent and still inside while outside the wind wraps itself tightly around it. Eventually the family finds their inner ability to rise and prepare themselves for the drive into town for a morning funeral service.

We follow the family in our own vehicle to allow them their privacy. The ride feels longer than ever before as the weather in the area, as we drove to Yale, Michigan, has the same wet, windy and raw, appearance as hunting seasons where I grew up in New Hampshire. I find myself breaking the silence by stating this resemblance that I have noticed and feel it was a way that the heavens were telling us that our bother-in-arms, no longer suffered from the illness that disabled him here on earth. A brief, yet tender smile finds a place on my husband’s face.

Our arrival to the funeral home is met with a friendly and professional staff member who is both kind and focused while guiding us to our parking location while arranging the car line to prepare the funeral procession. My husband parks the car where instructed and then sits for a moment to collect his thoughts. Without any words - I reach out to touch him – I’m there for him. He is suffering a tremendous loss and I feel helpless when I finally muster up the ability, through the knot in my throat, and ask is there anything I can do for him. In a whisper filled with deep sorrow he replies, “You can bring my best friend back.”

From the area that we chose to sit, during the service, you could see our brother-in-arms at rest and dressed in his military dress blue uniform.  The minister speaks from quotes from the bible, but I can’t hear the words through the noise of a thousand questions all screaming for an answer in my mind. My husband sits next to me as we hold hands. For years we have had our own way to talk to each other through various grips, and this time would be no different as we helped one another deal with the loss of our dear friend and its effect on the family and friends that remain behind. Special moments were added to the service with music chosen by the wife and her family. How beautiful it was, and I couldn’t help but wonder how difficult it must have been on all of them to go through old pictures and then find the right music. They certainly had more strength than I. As the service concluded, the congregation stepped into the adjoining lobby as the attendants and the minister prepared for the final journey. As I stood in the lobby, trying to console my husband and a favorite uncle of the family, a player grand piano, began playing a melody I knew all too well and was a symbolic piece, and an emotional trigger, to a time when I myself struggled with a Cancer illness and feared what would become of my family if a cure was not found.

 I’m listening to this right now, to help with the next several paragraph that for some reason my mind wants to lock away and not deal with the pain. For me, I have found that writing is the only way I can share my true feelings –especially when it comes to a deep feeling of sorrow. So hold on and listen with me as you read. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcdcwnBUowc&list=PL752FB5D5DEBCB651

I saw years of great times, hardships, losses of friends and family, births of my boys, life in the military, California, Port Hueneme, and the first time I met my husband’s best friend and his wife Shelly - my whole world. I couldn’t hold back the emotion that was rushing in like a small town in the path of an unexpected flood. I looked up at my husband as my eyes welled with tears and told him, I needed closure, I needed to say what I needed to say, before his friend was lay to rest and I needed to do this on my own and alone.  Quickly I excused myself through the crowed room to the back and entered through a set of open doors to find myself standing beside the open casket.

Our friend was gone, and I felt so guilty that a cure had not been found for him. I put my hand on his and found the ability to just speak out loud through the cracking of my voice and from my heart. The funeral tenant granted me a moment with him and stepped aside to move the lovely arrangement of flowers to the side of the casket as the minister watched on.  I’d  like to think they knew I had not taken this moment during the viewing the day before, but desperately needed this time to help me understand what was happening and chose to deal with the situation instead of trying to block pain and hurt like I had taught myself to do for many years. I began to just let my feelings out and speak.

“Fred, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do? I don’t know how to help these people though this, but I’ll keep my continued promise to you if you keep your promise to me. I will do all that I can to help your family and watch over them, if you could just find the strength up there to watch over Ron and help him fight the war of a memory of war in his mind and the pain of losing you. He is such a wonderful person and no matter what happened over there in the Gulf, and I may never know, the fears that you both faced together, the worries of not knowing if you’d come home, what I'm trying to say Fred - he still needs a guardian angel and that angel has always been you.” I’d like to think that somewhere deep down I heard an heavenly angelic voice that replied, “Thank you and I will always be there.”

I then leaded over him, and as I had done during that July morning when I had last seen him, before my family and I headed back to Maryland, I found the strength to give him a good-bye kiss on his forehead and said, “I love you Seabee, you are so going to be missed, rest in peace.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes and then turned slowly to walk back to find my husband standing with several other veterans who were asked to be pallbearer’s. There was something about my husband, that captured my attention, and help me focus and finally see completely what it was and still is, that has me so deeply in love with him. I saw it, a moment in time that I had not seen for many years. A moment of the first time I feel in love with him mixed with a special ingredient. If you had ever been in the military you would know what the special ingredient is, as the other veterans wore the same – Military Bearing. You could feel the sense of honor, duty, pride, respect, and determination - that no matter what lay outside those doors of the building that day, no matter the weather, no matter what dangers may linger, they would see that this fallen brother-in-arms would reach his final destination.

Only the pallbearers were asked to accompany the funeral director back into the room the same way that I had chosen to enter, while the entry doors to the parlor still remained closed. I stood there, looking at the numerous faces of grief, by friends and family members that wore shrouds of bravery, to ward off the sorrows temporarily, as they anticipated the flag draped casket that would soon appear as the doors opened. They stood in silence as they watched as the Veterans escorted their brother-in-arms through the lobby. The Veterans made no eye contact as they slowly and carefully made their way to the gloss black hearse that awaited them outside. Never once loosing focus, their military bearing was at full attention to uphold the honor and the duty that had been bestowed upon each of them by the grieving family.

As I stood by the doors, I watched my husband’s face try to fight the pain he was feeling as they closed the doors to the hearse. I wanted so much to go over and put my arms around him and tell him that everything would be OK, like he had done for me for so many years, but this time it wasn’t OK - His best friend and war buddy would not be there when he needed him or just needed to hear his voice.  I knew that the only thing I could give him at this moment was time. There was nothing I could say or do as the hardest part was still ahead of him.

We walked back to our truck and waited for our time to pull into the funeral procession that would follow the hearse to the cemetery. As we drove, I saw something I have never in my life seen before. Vehicles one-by-one pulled off to the side of the road. There were no cars in a hurry to get anywhere. Nobody cut through the line. These people, who may or may not have even known who lay inside the flag draped casket, still honored him, as they sat on the side of the road in their cars with their heads down. I don’t know if they did this because it was Veterans Day, or if life there is just different and it didn’t matter what day it was. There was just a sense of utmost respect that I had not seen like that - in person – ever.

We arrived at the cemetery where the family had already taken their seats beside the grave site. My husband, without delay, immediately found his place at the head of the casket. I stood beneath a rainbow colored umbrella that clearly was out of place against the traditional brown and black ones used by others. I watched as the Veteran’s lifted the casket and carried it against the wind and the rain. None of it seemed real as I told myself to make a mental note of what I was witnessing. My husband, in spite of his daily back pain, with no jacket, no rain coat, no protect from the elements, wasn’t feeling anything but sorrow and the determination to be sure he would help be the one to see his best friend laid to rest – anything else – didn’t matter.

It was a full military funeral, and I wouldn’t have expected anything less. As the Active Duty military personally took their positions at the casket, the command was given to stand and those who were military or retired military could render a hand salute while the soft somber tone of taps being played accompanied the wind. Every one of us Veterans stood at attention and provided our best hand salute. I don’t remember when the orders for the 21 gun salute was given, but I do know that it is a haunting feeling that I had only felt one other time when my step father George had passed away in 1991. Something about that sound makes things seem so final, and that all that is left are the memories and mementos that are left behind.

To watch the strength of this now widowed wife, and longtime friend of ours, accept the perfectly folded flag seemed more like a movie that my brain kept waiting for the film director to yell, “Cut…that’s a wrap.” I didn’t want to leave; I didn’t believe that any of this was happening and I just wanted some kind of sign to tell me that although our dear friend has passed, that he no longer suffers from the horrors of ALS. I believe that those who have passed on have ways of connecting to us, we just have to be opened minded rather than brush things off with the thinking it is merely a coincidence - it's not, it is so much more. I got my sign as I had hoped for as I sat with my husband at a banquet hall at their local golf course. The family decided to put together a gathering for friends and family to come together to enjoy a warm meal and talk about the life and times of their lost loved one.

I have five loves, my husband, my two boys, family, and snowflakes. As my husband and I sat at a table drinking coffee and speaking with the minister, something outside the picture window had caught my eye – snow – the cold and dreary rain had turned to a soft billowy snow that danced effortlessly upon the wind and feel softly on the autumn leaves that had not found their way onto the earths floor.

My question had been answered. Rest in Peace – Fred, Rest in Peace.

Fred and My Husband Ron - Feb 2010

 

Self-Publishing Scares Author from Bantam Books- Really?

 

Well we have made it to end of another work week and here it is, Saturday morning and I am wide awake at 5:15am.  I will say that this week has been exceptionally busy, I've had two job interviews, and I’m doing final book edits to make sure that this book due out will be without any blemishes and doing my motherly/wifely duties to keep the home fires burning.

You know, speaking of books and publishing, I had the oddest thing happen to me yesterday. I was speaking with a gentleman, who has been published by Bantam Books, on line in regards to traditional publishers and authors that fear those who self-publish, that they will be the new way of publishing because of all they have to go through to get their stories to the shelves. Their strength will grow in numbers because of what they will learn in the industry. Hummm??? I can't see how, the crap that an author of a self-published book goes through it mind bending, stressful and the author is generally the one that does the writing, checking, re-checking, web page building, cover designing, book signing scheduling, oh and we can't forgot the ever dreaded marketing, that in itself is a pain in the royal butt. And if you think the marketing part is bad, let’s not forget about the costs that come out of your pocket. Ouch!

A traditional publisher, you write your query, you send it in with a few chapters of your story, if they like it you sign a contract - then you wait for them, they don't have to wait for you, they do the marketing, they set up the book signings, they edit the heck out of it and do whatever tweaking is needed to be done Etc.. Etc.   So my question is - What the heck is the problem? All that comes to mind is the first two lines of the song - "Slow Ride by Foghat"  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GcCNcgoyG_0 (smile, this song was a song that a band played at the Adak talent show I speak about in my book. You will find it in Chapter 19.  Nothing like rockin out with a cup of coffee so early on a Saturday morning - Hope I don't wake the kids. Bigger Smile) Ok, I'm sure it's not that simple, but the concept is very appealing to me vs. having the control and all the headaches that come with it when you publish on your own.

I'd love to be one of the authors who have had the pleasure of finding a publisher that didn't want to always change things or talk money constantly. The first time a publisher was interested in my work the very first thing they mentioned was that I had to sign over my rights to it, meaning, they could change and do what they wanted to my story and my cover so that it would be appealing to a large group of readers. I immediately was shocked - I wasn't upset over the possible cover change comment, but how can a company sit there and say they wanted to change some of the writing in my story. All I heard was that they want to change my life to please the readers? You can't and I won't be dishonest for the sake of making money, or for any other reason. The things in my book are my life experiences. I also chose not to write with forty dollar words that you would have to look up every time you turn a page. It didn't mean that I don't have a large vocabulary, I just wanted people to feel like they were walking beside me and seeing through my words that with the good came the bad and I'm proud to still be on this earth to tell it. In one short sentence to describe my thoughts behind my writing my first book - I just wanted to be me, not someone’s dancing chicken.

They didn't like that and so the deal was dead. I decided that I wasn't going to stop there. I self-published and very proud of myself that I did. Funny thing, now I am getting calls that publishers are interested in my Fictional book that I have completed titled "Deemed Crazy", yes it is edgy, yes much of the story was inspired by things and people that have crossed my path throughout my life, but then the fun came in when I got to write freely, and why? It's a work of Fiction - A mystery, suspense, hang on the edge of your seat thriller. (And no animals where physically hurt while writing this story - You'll have to read the book to understand that statement) With my newest writing adventure, I guess I can see why I don't have a problem with signing with an actual publisher and forgoing the self-publishing world is that "Deemed Crazy" is all fiction, but could, in some sick way,  really happen and I don't have this moral obligation to stay true to my story, as I did with my personal story of my life "Through the Barracks Window: A Time of Waves." Everyone has a story to tell. My first story was originally written and I only wanted just a few copies to be printed for my family. I never had any intentions of selling it to the world or trying to be rich.  It was the uplifting words from Mr. Webber, that inspired me to publish it for the public which in turn led to my quest to raise funding and awareness for Veterans who suffer the from "Gulf War Illnesses." 

 

 

As for my next publication - it's going to be a wild ride and I'm ready for the challenge. Coming soon to a Book Shelf, Kindle, Nook, near you....
"Deemed Crazy" If you could get away with committing the ultimate crime of revenge - would you

Hope you all have a great weekend and enjoy yourselves to the fullest. Until next time - Blog ya later Alligators.

"A Soldier's Night Before Christmas"

 

 

Well hello my loyal readers, and to my newest readers. Hope my words find you with a smile on this fine Tuesday morning. Course for some of you, your time zone could be ahead of me or behind me, but welcome just the same. I wanted to share with you a quick story about an observation and why I feel that if we could all just hold within us, just an ounce of compassion, life could be ever so much easier. After what I saw yesterday, I realized that there are people in this world that need this true life lesson.

I had been sitting in a patient waiting area in the Walter Reed National Medical Center, waiting for my appointment in the Dental Clinic, watching people walking by as they make their way to and from the various clinics on the floor that I was on. I noticed that all of them wore the same look of frustration, stone cold, anger, and some even tried to wear a painted smile to conceal the sorrow that consumed the rest of their body. It was obvious that people were not happy, until I heard the sounds of little feet running. I saw a mother and her young son making their way to the same clinic check-in desk that I had just been standing at. I never noticed her husband that was with her until he rolled up to the counter in his motorized wheelchair. My thoughts paid no mind to his disability, but what did catch me was the dozens of people who walked by wearing a frown with the exception of his sweet son, who was probably no more than two, and his father’s face that wore a genuine smile. It was when he turned his chair around that I noticed that the jacket that he had to conceal his legs had slid off revealing the extreme redness of recent scares of his double amputation and the loss of two fingers on his right hand. My mind pondered what he may have had to endure that the end result was this extreme, until I heard him tell the staff member at the desk he had recently been in the ongoing war overseas. I felt a rush of tears making their way onto the surface of my face that was soon turned into a smile after what he did next. His wife worked with the staff to get appointments that did not go as smoothly as she had hoped, but hung in there as their son became restless and was working on a bit of a crying fit. Without hesitation, her husband lifted his son up and placed in him in his lap, and then took him for a quick spin around the hospital on our floor. Both dad and son smiled and laughed as their wheels made a unique rhythm on the tiled floor as they wooshed by.

Wow, here is a father, a dad, a Soldier who has fought for our freedom and has suffered the loss of his limbs, and yet without missing a beat, reaches out to his wife to help her by entertaining his son, with laughter and smiles, while other onlookers displayed their disgust that their wish for library silence, had been broken by their sounds of joy. For me, their laughter helped me realize that no matter what we all may have endured in our lives; we never know the stories of others and what life is like for them. I wish citizens out there that feel that being negative and mean is the way life would realize - IT'S NOT!  We can't let the sorrow take hold of us and bring us to such a low, that we can't bring ourselves up.  We must rise up and move forward with love and happiness in our hearts and be blessed that we are still alive no matter what the challenges we have faced or the ones that await us. Life is too short.

As these feelings rushed over within me, a song began to ring out in my mind and touched my heart as if it were cradled in the palm of my husband’s hand being held ever so gently. “A Soldier's Night before Christmas," This is my husband’s favorite Christmas Song and it was this year when I really learned why it means so much to him. After all that I have learned this year about my Seabee Veteran, I look up at the heavens and thank god that he and his unit came home after their time in the Gulf War from 90-91. Like the song, they too had been Soldiers that had missed Christmas, with friends and family because of their duties as a United States Soldier, yet even thought they are home, there is a part of their souls that has been taken from them and remains overseas. I have never come face to face with the destruction of war or have been on the front line, but with all of his unit members who have been willing to share their personal stories of war, I have a better understanding and a deep seeded respect and appreciation of what, my husband, the soldier in the military hospital yesterday, and our men and woman in our armed forces go through when they come from war. I am thankful that at this time, my husband may not be in a wheelchair, or needs walking aids, but he still deals with pain both physically and other times mentally of his time during the war. I will never know everything about this man I love, and what he went through, but what I do know - I love him with all that I am and here for him no matter what.

 

 

Merry Christmas Ron & Merry Christmas to our military members and the families that wait patiently for their loved ones safe return home and to those who have come home and are trying to put the pieces of their lives back together as their family lovingly waits. This song I dedicate to all of you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdEFaOoSBsw

"The Gulf War Within"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYhsj1EZHNs  Today's song: Lost Souls by Bruce Hornsby and the Range.

M

onday morning on this second day in July started as it has every day for the past year, with the exception of one major detail, I chose to go back to bed, which is something that I know I shouldn’t do.  A tightness and slight ache just over my left ear, has me thinking that four tablets of Motrin and more sleep will heal this soon to be migraine.  I see my husband to his truck and then wave good-bye after he kisses me gently and drives off to work. I miss him already and the day hasn’t even officially started. I feel the same closeness as we had when we first met as we slowly learn that we both suffer from things within our military past, which we cannot change, but must learn to cope with.

I am relaxed while on his side of our bed, with his fan he has left on, that sits on a chair next to his side, blowing gently and his sent remains around me on his pillow. I fall asleep easily to whatever channel I have on the television, and the words he spoke to me over the weekend – he is still in love with me, playing over and over in my mind. A part of me has finally found inner peace.

As I dream, I harshly wake to the sounds of yelling and loud music – it is the movie Jarhead. I have never seen this, and had only read small segments out of the book from which the true story movie is told. When I first opened the book, I could not connect as I could not understand this soldiers pain - not until now. I know the feelings portrayed in the movie and now I can suddenly relate, but why? I heard about the war from members of my husband’s military unit and it is duplicated exactly from the words that I chose to read in the book, but now something is wrong in my mind and in my heart. A fear of true understanding overwhelms me, but I keep watching as each event in the movie unfolds, and it is reminding me of very brief statements by my husband that stems from his life from a blocked timeline that is slowly revealing itself about his experiences in the Desert Shield/Desert Storm war. I guess I can say that I was clueless as to the magnitude of what our men went through over there. I see people talk about it, who were never there, with the attitude of, if I don't learn about it - it never happened. BUT IT DID! Because of it, our soldiers of war will forever deal with an altered life caused by the fear of what they have gone through.  

Right now I feel I have gone to college class and have learned that I finally passed after failing it over and over again.  The words that my husband talks about, darkness during the day as oil rains upon his unit, the countless charred remains of what was once a human life and the sounds of artillery shells exploding in the distance. He too has a book within himself that refuses to offer the chapters to help those around him, understand. He has blocked events in his mind that find their way back into his daily thoughts, that he'd rather have stayed locked away. He stands on the edge of the sand at any beach, and sees the desert and would rather not touch it. I saw a man that didn’t want to go away for the weekend. He smells the hot oil in a newly paved road, and he sees the desert and wants to get far away from it.  I saw a man that is frustrated that traffic is backed up and is growing impatient. While standing in a large crow with unexpected noise and chaos, he sees the desert and wants to go home and isolate himself away from all of it. I saw a man that was looking for an excuse not to go shopping He goes to work and operates equipment and drives truck – he sees the desert and is exhausted by the constant memories.  I saw a husband/father who was depressed and needed help, but didn't understand why. 

I found myself crying for my husband as I am fixed on the story that is playing out in front of me on TV so early in the morning. It is this moment that the light comes on and I realize there is so much more to my love of a lifetime, physically he is home, but the desert has claimed him as its prisoner of war and refuses to let him free. I sit here now only an hour after watching this movie, and our life together slowly becomes an instant slide show of memories that offer answers to many moments of frustration and concern, without any explanation then, to help me understand.  After twenty years of marriage and a tightness in my throat as I desperately fight to hide my sorrow from my children – I finally understand the words that he would say to me over and over when I endlessly keep ask him what was wrong, causing his anger towards me to grow.  He just couldn't say it enough "his problems were not about me."  for me I could only keep wondering in my clueless mind, "WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!?" All this time, I believed I was the sources of his negative feelings, only to learn three months ago – The desert is his pain.

My words of wisdom are to the friends and family members of our Military war veterans. We cannot even begin to understand the pain that our service members have endured, to say that we do, it can be disrespectful and trigger a hostile attitude if you have not been in their shoes. Many have come home with various levels of P.T.S.D. and will only seek help when they are ready, and that too is something hard for us to comprehend. Below I have added a link to anyone who feels that they may be suffering as a spouse, family member, or a significant other since a veteran has returned home from war.

http://www.familyofavet.com/coping_skills_PTSD_spouse.html

As angry as I am to see what our soldiers are going through, especially years after there time in service, I also feel a sense of  honor to know that I had the privilege to be a part of the Seabees, even though I never served on the front lines, you are all my family. Even more important, because of my choice to sign the line for Uncle Sam, I found the man that I love more than life itself and the children that we have created together. I am grateful that even though you are still reminded of your time at war, you are the most loving, caring and responsible person I know. I thank god everyday, that he realized he had enough angels and brought you home so that we could find one another.

Thank you for listening to my story today. I know that this is more of a somber note, but it is all part of my life lessons. So until tomorrow - Have a wonderful day and I'll blog you later.

"Worth the Cause"

It was brought to my attention, (and mind you I am still very new to the world of advertising) yet with my newest endeavor to raise funds for research and to support Gulf War Veterans, if people went to my web page below and I get as many people to click like in the next month, I will be able to advertise my cause for free for six months. So I am asking all of you to forward this information to as many friends  on any of your social sites to help with my quest. I have made the sight public.

Many Sincere Thanks,
BU 3 Ret, Stacey L. Bolin

https://www.facebook.com/?ref=tn_tnmn#!/pages/Through-The-Barracks-Window-A-Time-Of-Waves-Author-Stacey-L-Bolin/117270931688172



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eE6oY60pjiY

NMCB 5 ROLL CALL - DESERT SHIELD/STORM 90-91

Today starts the tedious task of finding members of the green machine from Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 5 that had been part of Desert Shield/Desert Storm 90-91. My husband and I have created a Facebook Page entitled:http://www.facebook.com/pages/Looking-For-Nmcb-5-Desert-Shielddesert-Storm-90-91-Urgent,  which will also have the listing of men that were part of NMCB 5. If you have any information on the whereabouts of these men you can send an email to: nmcb-five90-91@hotmail.com Subject: GWV 90/91

If you know any of the men listed below please have them or their family member’s contacts us ASAP. These are the names and ranks at the time of this deployment in 90-91. Names that are underlined are people we have found. 

Names were retrived from the NMCB 5 - Home of the Desert Seabees Operation Desert Shield/Storm Cruise Book. If I were to assume, I would think many names and ranks were typed incorrectly, but I've learned the hard way what assuming can do to a person. So forgive me if you find errors and please send us the corrections.

NAMES CAME OUT OF THE CRUISE BOOK

I have been informed that not all of your names appear,

please contact us so that we can update this information if you or someone

you knew is not listed.  

ALPHA COMPANY - EO3 Michael S. Ainsworth, EO1 Peter P. Ackley, CMCA Emieroy T. Alcomendas, CMCN Hubert E. Arnold, EOCM Vincente C. Aspuria, CM3 Paul H. Ballard, EOCN John R. Balog, EOCN Charles D. Bates, CMCN Bertram Benally, EOCN Todd J. Boltz A.K.A. Profitt, EO3 Kenneth Boyenga, CMCN Jeffrey R. Brown, CM3 Robert D. Campbell, EO3 Teddy B. Catabay, EO3 Andy L. Cauble, CM1 Timothy J. Chapman, CMCN Dennis R. Conner, EO1 Michael D. Coon, EO1 Bob j. Crandall, CM2 Justin W. Crawford, CM3 John S. Crawford, EOCN Sean T. Cumiskey, EO3 Joseph P. Cusanelli, CM1 George L. Delvalle, E)3 Michael A. Diehl, CMCS Joseph C. Domogalla, EOCN Jon L. Doney, CM2 Donovan J. Dressel, CMCN Jamed D. Dunbar, CMC David A. Duske, ENS Mark K. Edelson, CM3 Eric Espinoza, CMCN Bernard K. Evans, EO3 John A. Ford, EO3 Mark D. Fowler, CE2 Joy G. Gacuya, CE3 Gallagher, EO3 Gay, EO3 Geary, EOCN Giles, CM3 Gill, CMs Godfrey, EOCN Godfrey, EO3 Gradillas, EO3 Gregory, CMCN Greshaw, EO1 Haney, CM1 Hanggi, EO2 Michael Hebb, EOCS Hebener, CMS Heflin, CM3 Heintzelman, MTC Higgs, CMS Hildebrant, EO1 Hill.

EOCN Tracy L. Holt, SW3 Curtis J. Houchins, CM2 Ronald S. Houston, CMC John R. Huber, EOCN Brent D. Hummel, CM2 Robert J. Hummel, EOCN Irvin B. Johnson, EO2 Steven W. Johnson, EO1 Dwayne R. Jones, CM3 Jason M. Jordan, CMCN Joseph B. keehner, CMCN Bryan J. King, EOCN Frank H. King, SW3 Leonard T. Koelbel, EOCN Dennis E. Kuhl, CM2 David K. Kuntz, CM3 Timothy D. Lamm, CMCA Jay J. Lear, EOCN Raymond J. Loftus, EO2 David D. Longoria, EOCN Nick A. Lopez, EOCN Todd Luck, EO2 Kevin A. Magallones, EO3 Eric R. Marquart, CM2 Corwyn A. Martin, EOCA David Martzen, CMCN Michael P. Martzen, CMCN Andrew M. Mceathron, EO3 Jeffry D. Mcgrath, EO3 Timothy E. Mcintyre, CM3 Scott N. Mclean, EO3 Schoot R. McMahan, CMCN George T. Mcneil, EO1 George E. Molina, CM1 Christopher J. Monti, EOCR Joshua M. Morse, EO3 Robert K. Narkis, CM3 Bryant L. Neiswanger, EO3 Eric F. Olson, EOC Albert B. Otineru, CMCN Steven M. Paddock, CMCN Willian C. Phelps, EOCN Maurice A. Rayburn, EOCN Jonathan P. Resh, CMCN Frederick J. Rhoads, CMCN Richard E. Ripley, EOCN Omas T. Roberts, CM1 Edward A. Ross, CM3 John S. Rydzewski, EOCN Todd M. Schau, EOCN Kelly G. Scott, MR1 Douglas H. Shannon, CMCN Scott C. Smith, EO3 John W. Snelson, EO2 Peter “T” Starr, CMCN John F. Stevenson, EO3 David A. Straub, EO1 Daniel M. Stroba, EOCA Songwut S. Summerlin, EO3 Anthony B. Teart, EOCN Awndre N. Thompson, HT1 Daniel S. Thompson, CMCN Melvin D. Turner, CM! Leroy A. Vandergalien, EO2 Matthew C. Volker, EO3 Keith A. Walker, EOCN Charles E. Weathered, EOCN Dale R. Williams, EOCN Joshua C. Williams, EO3 Fredric A. Wilson, CMCN Stevie C. Wright, CMCN Clint K. Yogi, EOCN Juan E. Zeballos, EOCN Andy Steward, CMCN Jerry D. Pennington, EO2 Matthew C. Maurice, EO3 English Daniel,

BRAVO COMPANY – CECN Jeffrey S. Adair, UTCN Scotty L. Alendinger, UT1 Robert E. Anderson, CE3 Jeffrey L. Appleton, UTC Philip A. Balmforth, BUCA Caron N. Bates, CE1 Robert G. Blest, CE3 Tony T. Calhoun, CE 1 Jose A. Cervantes, ENS Mark B. Chenoweth, CECN Patrick O. Collins, UT2 George P. Conley, CE3 John W. Crooke, CECN Joseph D. Cummings, UT1 Edward S. Davis, UTCN Sean C. Dickson, CECA Joseph V. Dlugos, CE3 Harry L. Estes, UT3 Martin P. Fallstich, CE1 Bernard K. Fawcett, UT3 Paul C. Fielding, UT2 Delbert D. Fischer, UT2 Mark A. Fisher, CEC Craig M. Flanagan, CE3 Michael P. Gallagher, UT3 James D. Gipson, CE3 Marlon I. Gomez, UT3 Charle R. Grace, UTCN Alex D. Gray, CE2 George E. Guiterrez, UTCA Keneth S. Hall, UT3 Rich T. Harris, CECN Robert E. Hall, UT3 Douglaes E. Havens, UT3 Scott A. Helmbrecht, UT3 Steven J. Jackson, UT1 Norman W. Johnson, VE3 John W. Jones, UTCN Kevin J. Jones, UT2 Jerry W. Lair, CECS John A. Lang, CE3 Nick T. Lazaro, CECN Vincent F. Lercara, UT3 John N. Logan, UTCA Clinton L. Lyons, UTCN Keith Y. Lyons, CE1 Fredrick J. Mallette, UTCA Gregory A. Maracel, UTCA Daniel E. Marx, UT1 Lee O. Masters, BUCA Kent D. Matthews, CE1 Michael P. Maushardt, UT3 John T. Mccleary, CE3 Juan C. Melgarejo, UT3 David W. Mescher, BUCN Xavier A. Meza, UT2 Eric G. Miller, UTCA Roger A. Nelson, CECN Stacy K. Overton, CE2 Marc W. Peterson, CECN Adam B. Pitman, CE3 Edgar C. Poblete, CE3 Gregory E. Reynlds, CECN Pablo R. Romero, UT3 Shannon J. Sargent, LT David J. Sasek, CE2 Michael J. Seever, UT3 Gary S. Shose, CECN Kendoll G. Thomas, CE3 Mark Thresher, CECN Julio C. Velez, CE3 Yulin N. Wright.

CHARLIE COMPANY – BUCN Robert D. Almon, SW3 Theodore M. Anderson, SW1 Stephen P. Auton, BUCA Wellington Bargar, BU2 Arnulfo C. Bernales, SW3 gary A. Blackburn, BUCA Dustin R. Bowser, BU1 James K. Brewster, BU3 Roy M. Brochu, BU3 Michael D. Burgin, BU2 William B. Burney, BUCN John P. Buss, SW3 Jeffrey R. Callens, BUCA Steven L. Cardwell, BUCN James A. Caston, BUCA Bruce M. Characky, SW3 Alan L. Charpentier, BU2 John A Chasse, BU3 John C. Cooper, BUCR Richard M. Corlett, BU1 Thomas R. Cummings, BUCA Kelly L. Davis, BU3 Mark R. Denson, BUCA Christopher M. Eix, SW2 Anthony N. Enweluzor, BU3 Steven L. Erhart, BU1 James S. Ficklin, Lt Alan W. Flenner, BU2 Douglas C. Forester, SWCN Jeffrey T. Fuhmann, SN Jose R. Gonzalez, BUCA Eric B. Hansford, BU1 Kevin D. Harris, BU2 Daniel W. Hastings, BUCN landan J. Henson, BU3 Dale W. Herbert, BUCN David H. Hogue, BU3 David J. Holden, BU3 Matthew F. Hollenbaugh, BUCA Matthew M. Hildreth, BUCN Steven M. Johnson, BU2 Eugene I. King, EOCN Frank H. King, BU3 Andrew S. Knadler, BU3 Charles M. Labounty, SW3 Robert Laird, SW3 Douglas S. Lewis, SWCA Dwight E. Lowes, SWCN Timothy J. Mactavish, BUCN Danny L. Martin, SW3 Billy G. Marvel, SW2 Michael G. Mathis, BU2 Charles V. Mcclaugerty, BU3 Thomas L. MckeeCMCN George T. Mcneil, SWCN Patrick J. Messinger, BUC Walter A. Mistler, SWC Tommy L. Moore, BU3 Charles C. Munoz, BUCN Craig D. Norkus, BUCN Shawn T. Noto, SWCN Terrence P. Obrien, BUCN Randall K. Penley, BU3 Andrew R. Phillips, SW1 Edward O. Price, BUCN David L. Ramirez, BUCN Timothy P. Reich, BU2 Roger L. Roach, BUCA Dennis L. Salazar, BU2 Jamey J. Scheuring, BUCA Robert J. Sebe, SW2 Daniel J. Spicer, BU3 Steven C. Stubberud, SW3 Timothy R. Switzer, HT1 Daniel S. Thompson, BU3 Craig S. Tracy, BU3 Steven M. Umfleet, BUC Robert D. Wade, BUCN Darrin T. Wergeland, BU3 Coleman R. Wilson, BU3 Robert D. Wright, BUCA Donn C. Zorens, BU2 William L. Loveall, BU3 Mark Denson, SWCN Derek Jacquette,

DELTA COMPANY – BUCN Michael P. Allbritton, BU3 Caludio M. Alcanter, SWCN Derrek G. Allen, BUCN Pete N. Atkins, BUCA Declan D. Baggot, SW3 Frank C. Baughman, SWCN Eric A. Biwer, SW3 Alan E. Bonham, BU2 Douglas R. Bowman, BUCA Scott A. Brodbeck, SW3 Jeffrey Carter, SW1 Terry L. Clary, BU2 Michel F. Cowart, BUCN George R. Davenport, BUCA Theodore Davis, BUCA Matthew A. Domiguez, BUCA Danielkeith A. Farmer, BU1 James T. Gibbons, BU2 Michael E. Goben, BU2 Marvin P. Green, SWC Terry W. Gurley, BU3 Bryan E. Haddad, BU3 Charles J. hard, BU3 Lance J. Heizler, BU2 Michael A. Hensley, BUCN Lee H. Huffine, BUCN Mario L. Jackson, BU2 Brian K. Jones, SW3 David M. Keane, BU2 David R. Korhonen, BUC Dennis A. Lassard, BU3 Jason J. Londo, BU3 Jason E. Mattingly, BU3 Michael J. Maxcy, BU3 Todd R. Metzgar, SWCN Wade A. Mitchell, BUCA Kyle M. Moon, BUCA Eric J. Moriello, SW1 Donald Mozingo, BU3 Rudy A. Ortiz, BU3 Sean G. Persson, BU3 William P. Peterson, BUCN Keneth D. Piechowski, BU3 Tom D. Radecki, SW3 Paul N. Riendeau, BUCA James A. Riley, EO3 Omas Roberts, BU2 David M. Ruggeri, BU3 Patrick M. Schmidt, BUCN Daniel G. Sims, SWCN Tommy A. Singleton, BUCN David R. Slayton, BUCN Roger W. Smith, LT. Ralph G. Snow, BO3 James Michael Gourley, BU3 Burnett Starcher, BU1 Larry E. Unrein, SWCN Peter C. Vincent, BUCN Curtis T. Weathersbee.

HEADQUARTERS COMPANY – EACN Peter J. Adams, LT Talmage Adcock, LT Richard C. Ahlstrom, BUC Robert F. Alverez, MSGT Albert F. Ambriz, SKC Craig S. Amrose, EOC Shawn M. Babb, CM1 James W. Barnes, SK2 Nonilon N. Bautista, HMC Jay N. Berry, SK3 Robert J. Betts, SK1 Michael M. Brindel, PH3 Patrick W. Brown, DT2 Ronald R. Buckner, EA2 John Botten, SW3 Thomas K. Calhoun, DKC Charles A. Carey, LT Dennis L. Carlson, ET3 Lloyd S. Carnahan, DK3 Dofin A. Castillo, MSC Ceasar, PNSN Troy M. Churchwell, SK3 Marvin E. Clayborn, EACN Josemaria B. Collado, MS2 Rosendo S. Corner, DK3 Roger L. Conley, BUC Joeseph Connely, BU2 Michael S. Cook, EA1 Gregory F. Davis, MSSR Alonzo M. Duckworth, DK2 Joseph N. Dutkowski, BUC Danny M. Duval, YN1 Mark E. Embree, UTCN Marc L. Endsley, BU1 March R. Feldbrugge, PN3 Mark Ferland, MS3 Aldo A. Ferrari, MS3 Bobby D. Fields, SKSN Jack NF Foltynowicz, SK1 Dale J. Fuller, MSGT M. Fulton, PNCM Richardo N. Garza, MS1 Joseph C. Genavia, EA2 Ariel S. Genido, SW1 mark T. Giardina, SK1 Rex L. Godsby, CE2 Mark Harmon, PN2 Christopher S. Harris, SNSN Keith M. Harrison, LT Gregory W. Harshberger, BUCS Stephan E. Haycock, PN3 Eduardo P. Herrera, HM1 Thomas J. Hogan, SKC Lawrence J. Holden, BMC Harold L. Hulst, EOCN David T. Hunter, YNC James K. Huntley, MS2 Oscar A. Issc, ET2 Rob Jensen, YNSN Lucious Johnson, SK2 Thomas Johnson, HM2 Timothy H. Johnson, YN3 Terrence S. Jones, BU1 James M. Keller, LCDR Brian R. Kelm, BU2 Kevin D. Kelso, MS2 Kevin M. Kinghan, YN3 Willie Kinsey, PC2 William F. Kline, SKSN Tommy Krusha, SK3 Paul R. Kuchler, MS3 Real T. Lachapelle, Lt Brian J. Lair, Lt Joseph M. lara, CM3 David T. Larder, CE3 Armand J. leblanc, EA2 Michael E. Lee, DK3 Shek S. Lee, MA1 Craig Lohner, MS2 Carlos Lopez, SK2 Nick A. Lopez, BU3 Richard A. Mack, SH1 Abraham E. Marrero, BUCN Donald E. May, PN1 Romeo V. Mercado, BU1 Gregg A. Morrison, MS3 Darryl Morgan, EA3 Carl R. Neuser, BU1 Mark A. Nowinski, SK2 Miguel A. Ortez, YN3 Keith M. Pahl, Lt Douglas G. Petersen, SK3 Roderick O. Powell, BU1 Michael L. Priest, LT Daniel T. Ray, MS3 Dale A. Readus, BM3 Mike Rigsby, EA3 James T. Roberts, CWO2 James P. Rolloff, JO1 Paul Russo, SH3 Eddie Scull, MS2 Kevin Shelton, UT1 Jerry W. Shepherd, YN3 Stevie E. Span, DN Ronald L. Stanek, EAC Thomas D. Stanley, EA2 Tracy L. Stewart, PN2 David E. Stumpf, SKSN Ramon R. Tayag, HM3 Brian J. Taylor, SK1 John Thompson, CUCM Clifford J. Tietz, MS3 Edward E. Tookes, SK1 Romeo V. Victoria, LCDR Stephen R. Vonhitritz, SKSN Anthony L. Walker, CAPT David F. Walsh, Lt Todd E. Washington, EA2 Patricio A. Weesit, HM2 John R. Weigel, SH3 Duane D. White, SA Marcus C. Wise, YNSN Julius Yancey, BUCN Jason J. Zanzucchi, CECN Herbert T. Curtis, CECN Oscar Ellis, CECN Michael Logie, BUCA Danielle Prysibella, CE3 Byron A. Lee, UT3 John Logan, UTCN Mays Donald, SW3 Schofield.

Choked Up Today and Feeling So Small.

H

ello everyone. I am sitting here today in somewhat of a daze and I’d like to share with you what transpired this week that has got me feeling this way. We all know the old saying, "Be careful what you wish for, it may not be what you expect." or "Never Assume", I did not realize how strong these statements would be until I was hit with a large dose of reality, that I was so unaware of. I learned of a very horrific event that took place when my husband and his Battalion were deployed in Desert Shield/Desert Storm. I'm feeling ashamed, stupid, and I feel as large as the speck of dust on my kitchen floor. I never knew what happened in the war or what happened to my love of a lifetime and out of respect for him I must keep the details private. To sum it up in short, he faced many dangerous situations, with one being more than I ever could have imagined - he nearly lost his life. For the last 21 years only a few of his fellow Seabees knew the events that had taken place - I wish so much that I had been one of the few, but God felt that the time was not right for me. For years I would ask him, what happened in Saudi Arabia when he was there? I learned over the years, this was a question never to be asked. I realize that I was very immature with an inability to handle this information for the many years we have been married. I'd like to also think he chose not to tell me, due to all the difficulties that I had to face with battling cancer. I was a very reactive person, quick to jump without all the facts. To best describe me - honestly - I'd be the one in the plane that would say I knew all about sky diving and be the one who'd forget my parachute. Yes, that bad - I heard you wonder if I was really that bad.  I also had a pair of ears that never heard the whole story or I would engage in my selective hearing. So I completely understand why so much time had passed. "There is a time and place for everything"

I was honored and then rendered speechless when one of the men decided that I should know what truly happened and could help me understand things in a different perspective on numerous war veterans and their battles with illness long after the Gulf War.  With each word that was spoken I sank deeper and deeper into my chair feeling so guilty that I had assumed that some rocky places in our marriage had to do with a woman he had worked with years ago.  I had shared this with the caller, to which they replied, "don't worry you’re not the first to think that and how would you know what the problem truly was if nobody told you?" True, and honestly it didn't help when this same woman had been doing their best to suggest that my man had been in their lives intimately. Seriously, why do people do this type of Sh*t? Is it some kind of cheap thrill to spin a web of lies just to see people get hurt?  Well anyway, you see where this naive and clueless mind of mine was then - heading down the long dark path of bullsh*t.  How could I have been so blind?  I am told, that to admit fault is being on the right path to inner peace, healing, awareness.  I admit my flaws, I am not perfect and don’t foresee that I will ever be perfect.  Besides who really wants to be? If people were perfect, we’d be boring…right?

Did I learn a life lesson – Yes indeed, and I shared this with my husband as soon as I could.  I told him that I owed him a huge apology and expressed how small I felt and still feel. To hear what he had been through and  to hear that he never gave up the fight alongside his fellow Seabees – He is my Hero and I'm so proud of him.   I am honored and blessed to have him in my life and nobody could ever fill his boots.  That he is my best friend, my lover, my love of a lifetime, my husband and the father of our children. What a way to start our next twenty years together. I haven't seen him smile this much in years. Oh, and that twinkle in his baby blue eyes, I still melt every time he looks at me. But I can say I know how he feels to get something off his mind. I always feel like a pallet of bricks had been pushed over and my body feels as if I can fly, oh, and I smile a lot too.

So if I had to come up with a quote of life this is what it would be: This is just a draft, so go easy on me.

I have found that less is more, love like you've never loved before, that sometimes life happens with no answers, and what is past...is just that...the past - Leave it there. Be happy with whom you are and with those around you as move forward into the sunshine to deaden the darkened shadows that try to wear you down.  If only I could have been wiser in my younger years. - Stacey Bolin

Never assume anything unless you have all the facts. Never assume that what you’re told is the Gospel until you see it in stone. And the one piece of advice that my husband likes to share, with those who come up with wrong and off the wall conclusions, “Assumptions are the mother of all evil and can destroy you and the ones around you. All else fails...get the facts jack."

 Have a great day and I'll blog you later.

Their Past, Their Present - BUT WHAT ABOUT THEIR FUTURE!?

It's time to be the voice for their change and my voice starts now

As you remember a few weeks ago I had written a blog called "I Want to Know Why!?" I didn't realize that blog was going to open a door to a new journey that will challenge all that I am.  As you know I wrote about a dear friend of my husband who is now battling Lou Gehrig's disease. I was heartbroken, as anyone who knows about this illness knows there is no cure at this time. For me, a huge question began to beat to the rhythm of its own drum when we were told that the VA found him 100% disable. The VA is involved? I immediately thought, that means its Service connected, but how? I also receive VA Benefits and listed disabled. To look at me, you'd never know what I suffer from on a daily basis, but believe you me, it is nothing like what our friend and his family are facing. Something wasn't right, but I put the notion of foul play into the back of my mind for a later date. My womanly intuition told me this was going to be a topic that was going to come knocking on our front door.

We were honored his friend, who I am going to call, his brother, as they are "Brothers in Arms", and his family came to spend a week with us, just before Easter, and we enjoyed the time together to the fullest. I will say I am so glad that my husband was forewarned about the changes his brother is faced with, as I think if we had been told when they got here, it would have been very overwhelming to see and understand. Knowing of his condition a few weeks in advance gave our family time to get familiar with what was happening. His brother's wishes were to see things while he still could, and so we had planned our trips quite strategically so that his brother would not tire so easily, yet could take it all in. Our first of two big trips was on Sunday, April 1, 2012 - The Battlefields and memorials of Gettysburg and the other was on Tuesday, April 3, 2012 - The Air and Space Museum and the National Archives to see the Declaration of Independence, The Bill of Rights, and The Constitution. Both trips were very educational and memorable, but the best memorable moments came in the form of two men sitting on a retaining wall and in the backyard around our makeshift fire pit. Against my will and feared crying in front of them, I managed to say contained as I watched their body languages and listened to the two of them, as they sat for hours on end, reliving their early military days and discuss limited memories on an event that changed both their lives, but just didn't realize how much until 21 years later. They spoke of both the good and the bad times they had faced, with the worst of all - being in the Gulf War during Desert Shield and Desert Storm from August 27, 2012 - April 11, 1991. It was the comment they shared at once, before they quickly diverted from further discussing it - Being covered in the black soot from the 700 or so, burning oil fields and that never ending taste in their mouths - burnt oil.

Now you all know that I am big one for dates, events, and how they seem to all relate years later. Here it was, Friday, April 13th. Now I used to be one that feared Friday the 13th, until my younger son was born on Friday the 13th in June of 97. This day is now a blessing as my husband and I had created another life after being told we couldn't have any children. This was also an anniversary time frame for my husband. It had been 21 years since that moment when my husband returned to his base command, on April 11, 1991 to be exact, after being deployed to Saudi Arabia nine months earlier. It is not a time in his life that he shares willingly with anyone, with the exception of his "Brother in Arms". I didn't know my husband then, but it was during this time of their return that I was stationed at the same base going through my "A" school training as a builder.

Now have you ever heard of someone being triggered to remember something that for years has blocked for reason/s often stemming, or could be stemming from some form of Post Traumatic Stressors? Remember what I had said about the womanly intuition - well the topic didn't knock on our front door, it found a place in our mailbox instead.

On April 13, 2012 a letter arrived in our mailbox. In this letter was a past that my husband had chosen to block out, with the hopes to never relive the events, especially the dates that were indicated: Feb 24, 91 - Feb 28, 91. My husband not knowing what the letter had contained, asked me to read it while we drove to the Anne Arundel County Fairgrounds to do our volunteer ground maintenance. Our Job - cut and weed whack the overgrown grass for the flea market the next day. As I unfolded it, I immediately noticed it had been addressed to my husband’s parents as the author of the letter did not know of my husband’s whereabouts in the world.

As I read the letter out loud, my heart began to pound harder and harder wanting to burst through the walls of my chest. Fear was not only standing in front of me, it had grabbed me by the shirt and was doing its best to take me out. My breath quickened and my voice gone - It was bad news from one of the men he was with in Saudi Arabia. He too is also very sick and has been for years with what appears to be related to the Gulf War and where they were.  He spoke of an event that I could see stealing the smile from my husband face as he drove. It was a memory that had been locked far deep inside his mind and was rushing back to shake him up once again. This memory - It was on February 24, 1991, his 21 birthday, and it could have been the date of his death too. Upon reading the materials the letter contained, I was learning the complexities of the man that sat beside me and the pieces of a scattered puzzle, which almost result in our divorce, that began to come together providing answers to many questions. I knew I had to find out what happened to the men of Battalion 5.

How haunting a feeling it was, as I began to research chemical warfare in the Iraqi war and the quiet destruction that would plague the troops years later, after their returned to American soil. They had no idea they were about to face the worst war ever, the war within ones mind, body and soul and this was just beginning. The Military kept blind eyes and deaf ears to endless requests for answers. This time, those answers will be found, not only for my husband, it includes a battalion of men who, for all we know, have their own struggles and don't have the voice, the strength or the finances they need to band together. From one Seabee to another - I will be your voice. Today starts a new quest in finding the green machine from Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 5, that had been part of Desert Shield/Desert Storm 90-91. My husband and I have created a Facebook Page so that this list of men can all be checked as found.  https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Looking-Four-Nmcb-5-Desert-Shielddesert-Storm-90-91-Urgent/374788309226812 If you have any information on the whereabouts of these men you can send an email to: nmcb-five90-91@hotmail.com Subject: GWV 90/91

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> <>

</> <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><></>