letters to my deployed husband

Dear Mr. Trump: a letter from an angry Coast Guard Wife

by angela December 28, 2018

written by angela

➰ Dear Mr Trump ➰

I wanted to share HOW SAD it has been today reading all my friends posts about the fact that we will not be getting a paycheck and the reality that you don’t see how messed up it is not to pay a branch of the military that guards the coast every single day.

To share a bit of my own story- we are stationed in the most expensive city- the San Francisco Bay Area. Because of this economy, we have not qualified for food stamps or WIC since we moved here- and I can assure you, militarily families need that extra assistance, especially when our spouses are deployed. (you know- those unnecessary port calls…)

My husband deploys in less than a week and will not leave with a dime in the bank (unless change is made) so he can get the supplies he usually takes with him. Not only that- but he won’t be spending his time with me because I will be in my car…driving.

I happen to drive for #uber and have the capability to jump in my car and make quick money- but what about all the thousands of spouses who cannot do this?

This is so UN-American and it has absolutely nothing to do with being democrat or republican Mr. Trump.

Know that we see you and we hear you loud and clear- you. do. not. care.

#shutdownstories #notmypresident

December 28, 2018

blog letters to my deployed husband life

WILL YOU BE MY BEST FRIEND…AGAIN? – SAID HIS WIFE

by angela October 27, 2018

written by angela

Today I will ask my husband of 8 years to be my best friend…again.

You see, we were friends first. We met in high school, my senior year and stayed friends. That friendship turned into two kids, a dog, 5 moves and a decade later, but what happened to that friendship?

Life happened, stress, financial burdens, health issues, drug addiction, postpartum depression, deployment after deployment.

Life happened.

A couple years ago we were hanging on by the thinnest thread, not sure what the fuck we were doing. The word ‘divorce’ would come up almost daily, and not in a spiteful way- more so in a “would it make more sense for our happiness” kinda way.

And if you’re married, that’s a really sad and hard point to come to.

This was our last date to SF to reconnect in 2017. This could have been when Charly was created ?

I remember when my parents got to that point and I saw it happen over a period of time. They did less together, ate meals alone, and life happened…they grew apart and my mom searched for what she wasn’t getting in the home and found comfort in her best friend, who she has now been married to for 10 years.

He is 12 years her junior- and “that” part always got me…what was is about their relationship that keeps them together?…oh yea…they are friends…

I’m a firm believer that things that happen in life are lessons. Just like stories in the Bible, your life tells a story just the same. And for me, I took my parents divorce as a lesson to apply to my own marriage.

So what does that mean? It means that my husband and I have been in a friend-fight for a few years now and we are seeking a solution.

So today, my husband and I are leaving the kids with Yaya and heading into San Francisco for the day to reconnect. Today is dedicated on rebuilding that friendship we once had. That friendship we know is still there and will always be there, so long as we desire it.

Today I will ask my husband to be my best friend again. To allow me to talk without thinking of the bills, or our crazy work schedules. To connect on a deeper level other than in the bedroom (because were honestly doin’ great in that department). To feel the freedom to chat for hours, or sit in silence together. To feel that bond aligned with our interests, like music and art, and not focus on the bonds my postpartum depression has destroyed. To just feel and be, instead of numbing my anxiety.

Today I will work up the courage and energy to recognize what’s always been there…underneath the loads of dirty laundry and dishes in the sink, sits two humans that once decided “let’s do life together”.

Marriage is hard work.

I’ll say it again…Marriage is hard WORK…You just don’t wake up and are glowing in-love. You wake up to a human in bed, or sometimes on the couch- and you make the choice to do life together, day after day. Those days don’t always look the same, and that’s ok.

The important thing is that you feel the same ❤️

And baby, I fucking love you ❤️❤️❤️❤️

October 27, 2018

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LETTERS TO MY DEPLOYED HUSBAND: It’s Time To Come Home

by angela September 28, 2018

written by angela

Its time for you to come home and I’m not sure if my anxiety stems from fear or pure excitement.

You haven’t been home yet, but I got rid of our couch.

I know, I know, that probably makes me sound a bit crazy, but I have to be honest. The idea of you being home has been my paradise place in my head but the closer it gets, the more my anxiety boils my blood and consumes me to a point where my to-do list is getting checked off out of pure angst and anxiety.

Have I mentioned anxiety? lol

I wanted you to know it’s not a fear of you personally, it’s a fear of who I have become in this short time you have been gone.

It’s been about a month since I hit the “okay he needs to come home” threshold and every single day has been a struggle in some form or another.

Our last conversations have been filled with a hairline crack of “don’t get on the bad side” mixed with a dash of shame and blame on my part. Let me explain…

You said “every time I call you are so overwhelmed, I look forward to hearing your voice and you end up crying”.

Yes baby, this is fucking hard.

I think it’s been about a month since you said that, maybe two- who knows. But it stung a bit. I felt like I wasn’t aloud to feel every emotion that was spewing from my ears.

If I recall correctly, I think I hung up on you, sent a text to tell you I love and miss you and wished you well on your night out in either El Salvador or Costa Rica.

I know it was just a port call but I was fucking pissed.

I wasted that port call being mad at you on the inside and ‘okay’ on the outside.

Maybe 5 years ago I would have turned off my phone and waited till you returned to speak for the first time but we’ve been at that place for a while now where we can coexist without anger or disrespect.

We both know what we mean to each other is what I’m trying to say I guess and with the clock ticking down till the end of your port call points out the last seconds I need to hear your voice.

So the next morning, I answered your call. You were hung over and I was jealous. Not jealous you were hung over, but jealous of where you were because I dreamt about it all night, just to wake up with baby fingers gouging my eyeball and the realization that I was here and you were there.

We talked on the phone, we talked on Skype, attempted to use FaceTime but technology….

We talked. Not about what happened but about our plans, our future, our babies, about how much we fucking missed each other.

It’s not always about ‘what happened’…it’s about what will happen next and I am so grateful to have you in my life to remind me of that.

This deployment I spent a lot of time working on passion projects I haven’t even had the chance to share with you and I guess I’m scared because there’s that part of me that thinks, ‘what if he isn’t on board with my passions?’ ‘What if…’ and down the rabbit hole of self doubt I go.

I haven’t shared my master plan with you yet (shit, I don’t think I’ve really shared it with anyone) but just know that you are coming home to that wife you always remind me I once was.

And now that I have written about it, I’m finding that the ‘fear’ I started with is simply excitement, and I am.

I’m really excited.

Soon you will be home and the real life will begin that makes and breaks me every year. Our ‘bad season’ of marriage that strikes yearly is approaching and I want to make sure we are going to blow through it like it’s not even there.

You my love, have been my passion project all along, and I’m looking forward to this adventure we’ve always dreamed of making together.

I truly can’t wait ❤️

I’ll see you soon!

Love,

The Wife

September 28, 2018

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Letters To My Deployed Husband: It’s Okay to Laugh When You’re Gone

by angela July 1, 2018

written by angela

The funny thing is, it started off as a great day. The baby woke up in her normal happy “Rae” of sunshine-self. Sylas woke up the minute my scent left the bed. (Oh yea- I let him back into our bed to keep your side warm for you…actually totally lying- we were both missing you and it just feels wrong to sleep alone.)

Anyway, back to how my day was going great…I had a nice red surprise when I went into the bathroom for my morning pee (high-five, pulling out worked but don’t forget to ask medical about getting your vasectomy). So as I’m taking care of that, Sylas jumps into big-bro mode and entertains Charly Rae for me so I can try to collect myself a bit.

We came downstairs with chargers, iPhones, iPads, baba’s and binkys, so you know that means I wasn’t planning on going upstairs the rest of the day.

Charly did her usual self-entertainment in the playpen while I made some coffee and blended up some bananas for her. (Its funny how she LOVES bananas and I ate them every day in my smoothies when I was preggers with her). I drank my coffee, sat at the kitchen island and checked my email on my iPad while the baby ate some teething snacks and Sylas got a bowl of Lucky Charms together.

Like clockwork, I gave Charly her bath after her messy breakfast and with her baba she was out like a light. So that made it the perfect time for a shower and some time with our SY-GUY. He’s really been wanting to do some YouTube gaming so I finally figured out how to record his screen without hooking up a bunch of wires and downloading expensive apps. (Just mirrored my screen) So we set up our little gaming space and got in #SYGUYTV-Mode…and that’s when you called.

Now, don’t get me wrong babe, I was SO excited to hear from you…but DAMN does it do a 180 on my day sometimes.

We only got to talk for a few minutes as usual and we probably won’t hear each other’s voice for a couple weeks. I think the weight of that hung over me like a foggy ass Goldengate Bridge cloud cause it fucked with my entire day and I just couldn’t get it back.

Let me just throw it out there, again, that deployment fucking sucks. Period. It’s not a pissing contest and we both agree (and sometimes disagree) that it’s awful for everyone. Doesn’t matter if it’s me missing you, you missing the kids, the dog missing you, me missing your…massages. Everyone looses in this situation. So lets just agree, it fucking sucks.

With every deployment I feel like the first week or two are usually the worst. Where I am not myself, I’m just in auto-pilot mode trying to keep the plane from crashing.

The plane being me…

With my “co-pilot” gone, I have to work a bit of overtime, which I’m okay with. But today was one of those day’s where I wish I had a vacation day to use or a cockpit eject button to launch myself anywhere but here.

I was not in the mood to clean the cabin, definitely didn’t want to walk down the aisle offering snacks and was not in any mental state to put on my oxygen mask first, let alone last, or even at all. The tank was on empty it was a fuck you, kiss my ass, it’s okay to cry it out kind of day.

And so I did.

I cried while I fed the dogs.

I cried while I did the dishes.

I cried when the bag of flour fell out of the pantry.

And I cried while I cleaned it up.

Today I told myself, it’s okay to cry…and I’m really glad I did because something awesome happened out of my anxiety and sadness.

Every time I cried our little sweetness worked his magic and wooed me just the way his daddy does.

One particular moment I never want to forget.

Charly Rae was having a really hard time falling asleep tonight, she fought it with every bit of energy she had left in her. She was kicking her feet and throwing her arms around and got me pretty good in my eye- she hit me so hard my glasses hit the floor.

Yep, I cried.

Not because she hit me. And not because my glasses flew off. I cried because it was my final breaking point of the day. I laid in the center of our big ass King size bed with one kid on each side, threw my hands over my face and cried like a mother fucking baby.

Sylas didn’t hesitate. He threw his arms around me, gave me a big squeeze and said the sweetest words I’ve ever heard with that Jersey accent of his.

“It’s going to be okay mommy. I’ll take care of the baby, it’s okay mommy. It’s okay. It’s okay mommy. I got her.“

WHO. WHAT. HUH.

That’s our LITTLE boy babe. Sweet, compassionate and so thoughtful. It was like seeing a mini-you shine through this tiny 6-year old body right at the very moment I needed you.

And he got her. He proped her up in bed and did whatever it took until she cracked a smile. And that made me smile.

It was exactly what I needed. A cry-sesh to let all that bitter anxiety, anger, fear, sadness, and loneliness air out and make room for what reall matters when you’re gone. Our babies.

But then came the laughter and I felt guilty.

I laid in our bed with our kids for another 20 minutes and we laughed, got puked on of course, and giggled our way into forgetting why we were sad in the first place

In these snuggles and laughter I realized something important to remember and to keep the sadness at bay.

When we laugh, it feels like you’re home.

That small epiphany is something I can look for in everyday, and I wrote them down to remember.

“You’ll see Jay every time Sylas tries to scare you.

You’ll see Jay in the funny and not so funny jokes Sylas cracks.

You’ll see Jay when the baby is crying and Sylas comes to the rescue.

You’ll see Jay when YOU cry and Sylas comforts without hesitation.

You’ll see Jay when you open the fridge drawer and see it full of bottled water, because Sylas did his chores and filled it.

You’ll see Jay in the dirty laundry Sylas leaves on his bedroom floor, just like his daddy.

You’ll see Jay every time Charly Rae smiles, because she got that from her daddy.

You’ll see Jay when you feed the dogs the last bit of food, because you know that shits a bitch to haul into the house, along with the cases of water.

Point being…You’ll see him.”

It might not be when I need you, want you or think of you, but those little doses of you help me remember why I hold on so tight and they are vital to our existence.

Deployment fucking sucks. You spend your life dreaming what it would be with that one person and it is like a slap in the face when you can’t enjoy those dreams with that person.

So my goal this deployment is to make it feel like you’re home, keep us all laughing and make this deployment fly by. Because no matter how hard we try, we’re never the same without you and bringing you home is impossible.

So if you notice I’m happier than usual, just know that I’m still not okay, although I’ll always try to be. I’m trying, and I’m doing it for us, and I’m doing it for our babies. I’m doing it for me.

It’s okay to cry, but more importantly…it’s okay to laugh when you’re gone.

Laughter keeps my plane fueled and flying and as always, I promise to keep this plane flying till you come home.

Then when you get home…I want a vacation.

Next time you laugh know we’re thinking of you.

One week down. Too many more weeks to want to count.

Talk to you soon. Love you babe.

Xoxo -wifey

July 1, 2018