And Death Shall Have No Dominion

A link to my favourite poem about war-time: And Death Shall Have No Dominion, by Dylan Thomas

Some of my family went to the cemetery where my granddad is buried and put their poppies on his memorial tree. Had I been home, I would have done the same.
Some of my family went to the cemetery where my granddad is buried and put their poppies on his memorial tree. Had I been home, I would have done the same.
The high-browns of the Mountie who stood guard at the Cenotaph today. This is where my daughters and I placed our poppies.
The high-browns of the Mountie who stood guard at the Cenotaph today. This is where my daughters and I placed our poppies.

My Remembrance Day started a few days ago, when I asked my husband to have his uniform dry-cleaned for the service. Each year we argue over whether or not he is going to wear it, and each year he pitches a fit; but I always prevail, and he wears it to the service. This year, he didn’t, and it threw everything off for me. I tried to explain why it was important to me, but I am not always great at expressing myself when it matters. Both of our families are rich in military history, and when he wears his uniform he is a visual representation of everyone that I have loved who has served. I can’t be with them to hug them and see that they are still here (for the ones that are in fact, still here), but I can be with him and see his uniform as a representation of everyone else. That’s the best that I can explain it. Maybe I should have explained it that way to him. My mama compares my marriage to that of her parents quite a lot, and this situation reminded her of them at this time of year. Every year my grandmother would argue with my granddad about wearing his uniform, and every year he would stubbornly say no. I understand that a lot of our members choose not to wear their uniforms because they don’t wish to draw attention to themselves, but I feel like for one day a year they deserve it, and the rest of us deserve it too. We need to feel that they know how much we appreciate them. Selfish? Maybe. Don’t care. I want my pride in him to be validated by a sea of civilians who respect and admire the sacrifices he makes that others cannot. He works hard and deserves his one day of accolades, n’est pas?

Remembrance Day is emotional for me for various reasons. The most obvious being that my husband is an active member. (See: paragraph 1). The next reason is my granddad. He died in 1978 when my mother was just 11 years old. Before the war he was a farmer, and during the war he sent money home to his father to help out. When he returned from war after storming the beaches of Normandy, being shot twice, watching his friends and brothers die in front of him, he came home to nothing. The farm was gone, the money was gone. A resilient man, he worked at the CN Rail yard until his death. Every year we mourn his loss on his birthday, death-day, and Remembrance Day. It is a day of great sadness as well as pride – pride in his exemplary service and dedication to his family, and sadness that I never had the chance to meet him, ask him questions, have him brush my hair. He loved children, and even though he would be well into his 90’s now, I know that he would have loved to meet all of us, and I often think of what it would be like to have a granddad, and my girls have a great-granddad. They are lacking in grandparents on my side of the family.

He instilled in my mother and her siblings an honourable sense of familial responsibility, and they have handled their jobs as matriarchs and patriarch of our family quite gallantly. They in turn have passed that on to my generation. Pride in family, hard work, and respect for the past. We are all descendants of him, and us living our best lives is a tribute to him, and to his service as a young man.

The other soldier for whom I pray on this day is my father’s brother, the bravest man I have ever known. He served in the American Armed Forces for as long as I’ve known him and much prior (we met in 1997ish), and had an incredible career. Each Remembrance Day in which he was deployed – which was most of them – I would attend the service feeling sick to my stomach. Before the days of Skype or Facebook I would go months without hearing from him, and the terror of not knowing if he was safe or not caused me more sleepless nights than any kid needed. I’m not complaining, he deserved my worry. I would cry for him through the moments of silence, shakily sing the hymns (still crying), clutching a book of photos of him that I have amassed over the years. My worry for him didn’t fade on the days that weren’t marked for remembrance, but November 11th amplified it exponentially. He finally retired after my second daughter was born, and the Remembrance Day after his last tour overseas I cried with relief that he was finally safe forever. I am closer to him than I am my own father, and the thought of losing him still sends my stomach into a horror-spiral. He is the one hero I have had in my life, and I am so  grateful that he is safe. If I weren’t blonde I would definitely have grey hair from worry!!

My life as a military wife has been a roller coaster that I keep paying to ride. I love my life, and I am so unfathomably proud of my husband. The time that he goes away is hard on my soul, because I worry about his physical and mental well-being, but I am normally good at coping with keeping our home running while he is away. I owe him that. I take good care of our girls, I pay our bills, I get on with our lives. I don’t have crying fits, I don’t need breaks from my children, I operate in survival mode so that he doesn’t have to worry about us. As strong as I can be through deployments and training, I still cry when I hear songs that remind me of him, and my insomnia gets worse when I think about him being so far away, and some nights I shake with fear from the knowledge that I am the only one protecting our house; but I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. I am so proud of how far my family has come, and it is because of the man who gives up his family time to protect us globally. He has missed birthdays, holidays, and was away for the birth of our second daughter. As hard as it was for me, I can’t imagine how it felt for him. I am so grateful to him that I don’t miss out on any milestones, although I regret that it is at the expense of him experiencing things first-hand.

I gave him a very hard time today for not wearing his uniform – I had hurt feelings and chose to take it out on him, even though ultimately it’s not up to me whether he wears his spiffy’s or not. I don’t regret cajoling him, but I hope he knows that I love him past all of the stars, and am so proud of him that sometimes I fear my chest will burst. Our daughters are proud of him whether he’s in uniform or not – he is their super hero every day. Their eyes sparkle when they think of him, and I hope that they will continue to accept and understand our lives as they grow older.

At the end of today we took some nice family photos, and I popped several Advil for the migraine that I get every year on this day. We ended our solemn day with smiles and full hearts, happy that another year of safety for our loved ones has passed. Not every year will be happy ones for us, it’s a hazard of the life that we live, but for now I will focus on the good. Everyone we know is safe, my girls are learning to respect the past and enjoy their history, and I have one day where everyone else has my husband on the same pedestal that I do.

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4 thoughts on “And Death Shall Have No Dominion

  1. As a daughter of a veteran, I found this post deeply moving. Brilliantly written, I was riveted until the very end.

    You are truly incredible ; since I’m a relatively new follower I was totally unaware of your family’s living situation. You inspire me to quit my stupid whining and appreciate what’s right in front of me. The love and respect you have for your husband is beautiful.

    Thank you for writing poignant post that touched my heart and stood out among the many blogs I read each day. I won’t forget it.

    Dyane

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I need you around to comment on my daily activities!
      I am ridiculously proud of him. Not only is he brilliant at his job, but he’s an amazing father and husband. Living with me is NOT easy, but he always does his best to make sure i feel safe emotionally. He has a lot on his plate with 3 daughters, a crazy wife, and a full time career – i’m grateful to him every day.
      Being a military wife has exposed me to the mental illness that is experienced in this community, and I hope that someday I will be able to help in a more active way. It’s not just members who suffer, it’s family as well – our oldest daughter is living with a form of childhood depression associated with being gifted.
      I love to write, but I would love even more to find a job in my community helping to educate members and civillians on mental illness.

      I went off on a bit of a tangent there! I appreciate so much that you read and contribute to this blog. I can’t get my own mother to read it, I never expected to connect with someone so far away!
      I hope you have a peaceful and happy weekend 🙂

      Cheantelle

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you so much Cheantelle, for your comment. It made me smile! (An honest-to-God real one, not a faker!) I feel very lucky to be connected with one another, and I feel appreciated- by you, despite your knowing about my dark side! 🙂

    I’m happy that you have a truly wonderful husband. ***You*** deserve it! Sure, you’re not a walk in the park, and I sure as hell am not either, but our husbands wouldn’t want boring “yes, dear” milquetoasts, right? It’s obvious that you love him ginormously; you definitely found a gem in this extraordinary-sounding man!

    Your goal to someday help educate your community in terns of mental illness is commendable, and I support you in that 100%, although please….don’t stop writing!! I’m sorry that your oldest suffers with depression (I’ve read somewhere that highly gifted children often have depression – forgive me if I’m wrong!) I’m glad that she has a compassionate, loving mother in you.

    I’m still wrapping my head over the fact that you have such a gorgeous, 170 LB dog. Lucy is only 40 pounds. Do you ever give Murphy a bath, and if so, how does that work out? 🙂 I’d love to see a YouTube video of that!

    I wish you a lovely weekend too. I’m going to give Lucy a bath & I won’t complain about it being challenging at all! 😉 I’ve been following all your tweets & will keep on doing so! The more pics of your gorgeous Murphy, the better! (and your 3 YO was a cutie as well!)
    take care,
    Dyane

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Dyane!

      I do manage to bathe Murphy, but it’s not easy! In the summer i fill up our kiddy pool or take him to the beach, so he manages to stay pretty clean. During the winter I use the hose in the back yard! The girls soap him up, and then I blowdry him in the house. I try to brush and trim him bi-weekly. He loves it!

      Gifted children are far more likely to experience depression and anxiety, and are also at a higher risk of suicide in their teens. We work very hard to keep on top of her. It can be hard to motivate her when i’m in a downswing, but we all manage to pull through.
      I won’t ever stop writing! I love it too much. My goal has always been to someday be published in Vanity Fair! I don’t know how realistic it is anymore, but i’m going to cling to it for as long as i can!
      I hope you had a peaceful weekend! It can be hard to find the rays of light shining through the darkness, i’m glad we’ve found each others!
      Talk soon,
      C

      Liked by 1 person

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