Rebecca Nolan's Blog - Posts Tagged "military"
Coping with Deployment HandBook
As most know my husband is in the military. We have experienced a couple of deployments and during that time i have never come across anything which describes the intense emotional roller coaster that it can be. Everything I went through made me feel half crazed and very alone. Sure I knew other people had been there and gone through it but it wasn't as though I was going to call them up and be like, 'hey I want to walk out the door cus I am so over this and want to tear my hubby's head off.'
Even though I felt like that at that moment it wasn't what I really wanted. I just needed to vent. I needed to let my frustration out and know that what I was feeling was normal.
Any serious amount of time away effects you and your relationship. It is hard and no matter how you try to explain it to those not in the military it is likely that they just wont understand. How can you tell someone that really you partner is married to military and you get to play mistress every now and then. Military first, you second.
So work has begun on the Coping with deployment handbook. Two sections have been nearly completed. There are tips to help kids cope and parents of those deployed to cope. Also, in a first, I am going to try to include tips for siblings. Stay tuned for more details :)
Here is a few pieces from the book.
The packing of the bags.
Denial is my fave emotion at times but when you are sitting or standing and watching your partner pack those bags everything becomes real way too fast. This is a rollercoaster of emotions that you will be riding on. This is the time you might feel yourself becoming closed off or teary or one of the many other sad, angry, frustrated emotions that comes when realty hits you all too quickly.
The what ifs…
No one wants to have this talk and yet if something happens you will be glad you did. I am talking about the What If talks. What If one of the kids gets has to go to hospital? What if a loved one dies? What If something happens and I can’t contact you for a week or week? What If the house burns down? What If something happens to you and you don’t come back?
All these things are hard to talk about. The first time my partner went we didn’t have this talk at all. Again the denial fairy visits me on this one but now that I’m older and know better it is hard to ignore these discussions. Have this talk! Write down a list of possible What Ifs and check them off as you talk about it.
Be Prepared
Now is the time to make sure you have insurances, to check wills, to find contact numbers etc. Make sure you have the number of your partner’s mechanic, or any other thing your partner normally takes care of. If your partner is use to doing certain things well you’re going to have to burst their bubble and begin to take over things.
Xo
Rebecca
Even though I felt like that at that moment it wasn't what I really wanted. I just needed to vent. I needed to let my frustration out and know that what I was feeling was normal.
Any serious amount of time away effects you and your relationship. It is hard and no matter how you try to explain it to those not in the military it is likely that they just wont understand. How can you tell someone that really you partner is married to military and you get to play mistress every now and then. Military first, you second.
So work has begun on the Coping with deployment handbook. Two sections have been nearly completed. There are tips to help kids cope and parents of those deployed to cope. Also, in a first, I am going to try to include tips for siblings. Stay tuned for more details :)
Here is a few pieces from the book.
The packing of the bags.
Denial is my fave emotion at times but when you are sitting or standing and watching your partner pack those bags everything becomes real way too fast. This is a rollercoaster of emotions that you will be riding on. This is the time you might feel yourself becoming closed off or teary or one of the many other sad, angry, frustrated emotions that comes when realty hits you all too quickly.
The what ifs…
No one wants to have this talk and yet if something happens you will be glad you did. I am talking about the What If talks. What If one of the kids gets has to go to hospital? What if a loved one dies? What If something happens and I can’t contact you for a week or week? What If the house burns down? What If something happens to you and you don’t come back?
All these things are hard to talk about. The first time my partner went we didn’t have this talk at all. Again the denial fairy visits me on this one but now that I’m older and know better it is hard to ignore these discussions. Have this talk! Write down a list of possible What Ifs and check them off as you talk about it.
Be Prepared
Now is the time to make sure you have insurances, to check wills, to find contact numbers etc. Make sure you have the number of your partner’s mechanic, or any other thing your partner normally takes care of. If your partner is use to doing certain things well you’re going to have to burst their bubble and begin to take over things.
Xo
Rebecca
Blood Lilly is done, time for romance
It has been a while and that is mainly because I have been struggling to write, edit and get blood Lilly to my publisher. Now that that is done I am moving onto finishing some romance stories.
As most people know my hubby is in the Australian defence force and is currently deployed. Due to this and other factors like my urge to help create awareness for PTSD among other things; i have decided to work on two military romances.
Here is the 1st page rough draft of a story centered around a psychologist and her Army patient.
Untitled
Everyone stood still while the reveille music played. Personnel saluted the flag as we watched it being raised. Mornings had been like this for me, for the past three years. I was used to it now, enjoying the repetition of Army life almost as much as I enjoyed my work on base. Men and women dress in uniform moved around me after the music stopped.
I stayed, looking up at the flag and praying that today I would make a difference. That was why I was here after all…to make a difference. I guess most of the people who worked on the base felt the same, we all wanted to make a difference in the world.
My journey towards a career as an Army psychologist hadn’t been an easy one. I had finished high school at sixteen and collage my psychology degree by twenty. It was during my PhD to become a clinical psychologist though that I decided to join the army. Also around that time was when my brother had returned from his first year long tour in Iraq. None of us had expected him to change, none of us knew back then what post-traumatic stress disorder was.
My brother, Daniel, knew all the right things to say, when he got back home. On the outside he looked happy. At work he felt safe, his ability to get the job done, something he used to hide the emotional scars facing him. I watch him as he began to withdraw from his friends and his family, knowing something was wrong but the Army psychologist couldn’t see it. Little things bugged me, like drinking for one thing. He wouldn’t have his back to a door or window, nothing to unusual unless we were at a restaurant, then it became a concern; one so great that my brother almost punched the waiter over it.
After that it just got worse. Daniel lost his wife due to the drinking and his outbursts. I felt certain he was depressed but I was young and not confident in my judgment of the situation. I wrote to the Army, begging them to look further at my brother which they did and found him mildly depressed due to the breakdown of his marriage. When I received the reply I was mystified, but let it go, after all this doctor had been treating our serving men and women for years, surely he knew what to look for…but he hadn’t.
No one, especially not me, could have foreseen what Daniel would do. Two years after his return, my brother- after coming back from his second tour- decided to shoot himself in his car, half a mile from base. I was dumbstruck. Emotionally torn apart by why he would do it. Why would he decide to take his life instead of coming to me for help? Why I hadn’t pushed harder, looked further or known what was going on with him.
It was during his funeral that changed my life. I watch as his brothers in arms cried for him. I watched as we sat, drinking beers and remembering the Daniel we knew. As the night wind down and the beers turned to bourbon, I heard the stories of what it was like. Maybe they had forgotten that I was still around but those boys talked. They spoke of Daniel and of the people they had killed. Spoke of the people that had almost killed them and how now, whenever they were out, in civilian life that past still haunted them.
The next day I told my grief-stricken parents I was going to join the Army as soon as I completed my PhD. As one can imagine they weren't happy. They had just buried one child and didn't wish to bury another but I couldn't stand by and do nothing anymore. Daniel had suffered because I didn't think to act or question his diagnose. He had lost his life but if I could help, if I could save a soldier like Daniel who was suffering, then maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't all be for nothing.
~work in progress
As most people know my hubby is in the Australian defence force and is currently deployed. Due to this and other factors like my urge to help create awareness for PTSD among other things; i have decided to work on two military romances.
Here is the 1st page rough draft of a story centered around a psychologist and her Army patient.
Untitled
Everyone stood still while the reveille music played. Personnel saluted the flag as we watched it being raised. Mornings had been like this for me, for the past three years. I was used to it now, enjoying the repetition of Army life almost as much as I enjoyed my work on base. Men and women dress in uniform moved around me after the music stopped.
I stayed, looking up at the flag and praying that today I would make a difference. That was why I was here after all…to make a difference. I guess most of the people who worked on the base felt the same, we all wanted to make a difference in the world.
My journey towards a career as an Army psychologist hadn’t been an easy one. I had finished high school at sixteen and collage my psychology degree by twenty. It was during my PhD to become a clinical psychologist though that I decided to join the army. Also around that time was when my brother had returned from his first year long tour in Iraq. None of us had expected him to change, none of us knew back then what post-traumatic stress disorder was.
My brother, Daniel, knew all the right things to say, when he got back home. On the outside he looked happy. At work he felt safe, his ability to get the job done, something he used to hide the emotional scars facing him. I watch him as he began to withdraw from his friends and his family, knowing something was wrong but the Army psychologist couldn’t see it. Little things bugged me, like drinking for one thing. He wouldn’t have his back to a door or window, nothing to unusual unless we were at a restaurant, then it became a concern; one so great that my brother almost punched the waiter over it.
After that it just got worse. Daniel lost his wife due to the drinking and his outbursts. I felt certain he was depressed but I was young and not confident in my judgment of the situation. I wrote to the Army, begging them to look further at my brother which they did and found him mildly depressed due to the breakdown of his marriage. When I received the reply I was mystified, but let it go, after all this doctor had been treating our serving men and women for years, surely he knew what to look for…but he hadn’t.
No one, especially not me, could have foreseen what Daniel would do. Two years after his return, my brother- after coming back from his second tour- decided to shoot himself in his car, half a mile from base. I was dumbstruck. Emotionally torn apart by why he would do it. Why would he decide to take his life instead of coming to me for help? Why I hadn’t pushed harder, looked further or known what was going on with him.
It was during his funeral that changed my life. I watch as his brothers in arms cried for him. I watched as we sat, drinking beers and remembering the Daniel we knew. As the night wind down and the beers turned to bourbon, I heard the stories of what it was like. Maybe they had forgotten that I was still around but those boys talked. They spoke of Daniel and of the people they had killed. Spoke of the people that had almost killed them and how now, whenever they were out, in civilian life that past still haunted them.
The next day I told my grief-stricken parents I was going to join the Army as soon as I completed my PhD. As one can imagine they weren't happy. They had just buried one child and didn't wish to bury another but I couldn't stand by and do nothing anymore. Daniel had suffered because I didn't think to act or question his diagnose. He had lost his life but if I could help, if I could save a soldier like Daniel who was suffering, then maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't all be for nothing.
~work in progress
New project Romance genre
“Sarah I want you home early so we can trim the tree.” My mother called out to me as I walked to my car bound for the mall. The wind whistled though the trees as it nipped my nose making me pull my coat a little tighter. Everything was white, the roofs on houses, the trees, and the ground…all of it was white and beautiful. I loved this time of year; Christmas carols played in every mall, decorations lined the streets and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. It was a great time of year, I thought as I moved from store to store. There were only ten more days until Christmas and three days until I’d have to deal with the influx of family that gathered at my parents’ home. It was annoying that at twenty five I still lived at home but in this economy moving out on my wage, with my student loans, was not an option, I thought as I searched for a parking spot.
Even though I complained about it, I couldn’t wait to see family again. I could picture every present for all my aunts and uncles and grandparents. We didn’t have a huge family, but every Christmas we liked to gather at someone’s place and reconnect. It wasn’t the worst tradition and if I liquored up grandpa enough it would mean a nice little cash bonus under the tree for me. Sure, I felt bad but when he saw the new plaid sweater vest I got him, all would be forgiven. This year was my nephew’s first Christmas. He was six months old and a little cherub with curly blond hair and big rosy cheeks. Jason was the light of our family’s life, being that he was not only my first nephew but he was also the first grandchild and great grandchild, on both sides of the family. We were all looking forward to watching him tear up the paper on Christmas morning. I had no problem spending up big on my little nephew just to see that smile upon his face. I mightn’t have bucket loads of money but had enough to make sure he would be well spoilt over the holiday season.
The sound of a school choir caroling, chimed in my ears as I sipped hot coco before nibbling on a Christmas cookie. There were only a few more shops to hit until I was done gift shopping but I was already tired and my feet were aching with protest. There was still time, I mused. Tomorrow was a half day at work, surely I could come back then to pick up the last few things I wanted. I loved the atmosphere at this time of year; it was amazing to be around. Families coming together, strangers helping each other… it was a time when miracles happened.
I smiled at guy dress in a Santa suit as he passed by accidently knocking me with his elbow. “Merry Christmas.” I called out in my cheery holiday voice. The Santa look alike glared at me, his eyes filled with anger. Instinctively I took a step back, dropping the cookie that was in my hand.
“A Merry Christmas to you to.” He spoke with a strained tone. I couldn’t help but wonder why this Santa seemed so aggravated, it was Christmas after all. He must’ve picked up on my feeling as he flashed me a weak smile before flinging his Santa sack over his shoulder and disappearing into the crowd. I shrugged, not wanting to let it ruin my day. There was just one more shop to hit before I would pack up my credit card for the day. There were some perks to living with my parents after all, I thought with a grin.
My arms were full as I made my way out for the mall; my feet and bank balance both a little worse for wear. Nearly everything on my Christmas list had been bought so I was ready to tackle the next thing on my ‘to do list’…wrapping.
Juggling bags while trying to find my keys, I made my way to the car, humming jingle bells rock softly as I thought about trimming the tree with my mum and sister later tonight. In hindsight I should have been paying attention to the things around me. Maybe I would have done things differently…then again, maybe not. Who knows? But, as I heard the beep of my car’s central locking system activate, a shot rang out. One loud bang followed by another and another.
I didn’t feel anything at first. No searing pain. No ache. Screams echoed all around me. Everything seemed to be moving in fast forward while I was stuck in slow motion, watching as others fled for safety, sheltering themselves behind cars as others rushed into stores… I didn’t understand what was happening. Another shot followed by three more sounded as I glanced to my left. There had been a loud thud followed by several screams before everything had gone very quiet. All I could hear now was the muffled sounds of crying and Christmas carols. It was very unnerving. Suddenly I wondered as to when I had fallen? The presents I had picked out were scattered around me as a surge of panic flooded my veins. Another loud shot rang out, so loud that I wanted to cover my ears. It was at that point in which I realized I must have been hit by a bullet. I glanced around me once more.
An old man had fallen onto his back a few feet across from me, blood slowly pooling from underneath him. I had a thought, that maybe I could help him, I was a nurse after all but as I tried to move my legs they stayed still. Five others were lying on the on the cold, hard ground like me. I was too far away to help the others but the old man was close enough that I if I could get to him maybe I could help in some way. My nursing instincts kicked in and I called out to the man.
“Sir, are you ok?” I asked, the man didn’t respond but I could see that he was still breathing. I moved my arms, laying them out in front of me. My legs might not have been working properly but I was determined to move forward. There was a young man with his finger against his lips telling me to be quiet. I glared at him, the guy was early thirties and hiding behind his Audi, I was outraged. How dare he hide behind a car judging me for helping others? This young guy was far more capable then I and yet he did not offer either me or any of the others a helping hand. The thought to scream at the top of my lungs was far too tempting.
“Why won’t you help him?” I cried out as hushed as I dare be. The guy only two maybe three feet away shook his head. I watched as the old man lying in front of me groaned, his hand dropping to the side. I worried I wouldn’t make it time.
“God, please…someone help him. Can’t you see he will die if we leave him out here!” I pleaded to deaf ears.
“Shut up.” declared a voice, followed by another gunshot though I wasn’t sure where it came from. All I could focus on was the man as the sound of a child crying in the background soon hushed. I prayed that the child was ok and not a victim.
“Matt.” Another soft groan escaped from the poor man’s lips. I was worried about how bad his injuries might be. Every ounce of strength I had left, I used to reach the man.
“Sir…” I struggled to finish what I was saying. I felt cold. Really cold yet my only concern was to help him. I looked around at all the scared faces, hiding where they could. Using my arms I inched myself forward. ‘Oh god’, it hurt so bad that black dots appeared before my eyes…or maybe I was losing too much blood. I hadn’t really checked myself but I knew I was doing ok as long as I stayed awake and coherent. Christmas carols were now being drowned out by sirens. I knew police were on the scene, it was only a matter of time before help would arrive. All I had to do was stay awake until they could reach us.
“Sir, can you hear me?” I asked, trying to keep my tone nice and even.
We were out in the open, easy pickings for the shooter. I knew how this worked, police, medics…none of them would come until it was safe but hopefully that wouldn’t be too long now. Another shot echoed in the distanced as if mocking me. The sound was deafening even over the siren. Still it was hard to tell where the gunman was shooting from. Nothing around me was disturbed and truthfully I didn’t care if the shooter noticed me or not. If I was going to die then I wanted to do it on my own terms. I wanted to die knowing I wasn’t too scared to help a stranger on Christmas. Maybe it was my tenacity which made the shooter ignore me or maybe he was trying to think of an escape plan. I guess I would never know but while whatever was going on; I continued to do what I knew was right.
There was a lot of blood now pooled around him as I tried to see where it was coming from, one wound in his chest and one in his leg. The chest one was only a small entry wound but from the blood pouring out under him I knew the exit wound must be bad. My pulse jumped into my throat as I realized that there was not a lot I could do for him in my condition. Maybe if he had been rushed to hospital, he might have survived but even I had doubts.
In his left hand lay a small velvet box. It was too large for it to be a ring box. I grabbed his hand removing the box. His pulse was weak. A horrid thought entered my mind for I knew he didn’t have long left in this world. Carefully I placed the box in the waistband of my jeans. I didn’t know what was in it but I’d be damned if I’d let someone steal it.
Tilting my head I whispered. “Sir, it’s all right. Everything is going to be fine; I’m here to help you. All you have to do is hold on a little bit longer.”
I wasn’t expecting him to answer but it would have been reassuring. He was so close to death that I figured the best thing I could do was to hold him close and let him know he wasn’t alone. With my head resting beside his shoulder I held his hand and waited, whispering reassuring words. I didn’t feel cold any more instead I felt tired, so, with my hand clasped in the man’s I let myself drift off knowing I might never awaken. Jingle bells rock still playing in my mind as I hummed the tune wondering if I would ever see my family again.
Rebecca Nolan
Even though I complained about it, I couldn’t wait to see family again. I could picture every present for all my aunts and uncles and grandparents. We didn’t have a huge family, but every Christmas we liked to gather at someone’s place and reconnect. It wasn’t the worst tradition and if I liquored up grandpa enough it would mean a nice little cash bonus under the tree for me. Sure, I felt bad but when he saw the new plaid sweater vest I got him, all would be forgiven. This year was my nephew’s first Christmas. He was six months old and a little cherub with curly blond hair and big rosy cheeks. Jason was the light of our family’s life, being that he was not only my first nephew but he was also the first grandchild and great grandchild, on both sides of the family. We were all looking forward to watching him tear up the paper on Christmas morning. I had no problem spending up big on my little nephew just to see that smile upon his face. I mightn’t have bucket loads of money but had enough to make sure he would be well spoilt over the holiday season.
The sound of a school choir caroling, chimed in my ears as I sipped hot coco before nibbling on a Christmas cookie. There were only a few more shops to hit until I was done gift shopping but I was already tired and my feet were aching with protest. There was still time, I mused. Tomorrow was a half day at work, surely I could come back then to pick up the last few things I wanted. I loved the atmosphere at this time of year; it was amazing to be around. Families coming together, strangers helping each other… it was a time when miracles happened.
I smiled at guy dress in a Santa suit as he passed by accidently knocking me with his elbow. “Merry Christmas.” I called out in my cheery holiday voice. The Santa look alike glared at me, his eyes filled with anger. Instinctively I took a step back, dropping the cookie that was in my hand.
“A Merry Christmas to you to.” He spoke with a strained tone. I couldn’t help but wonder why this Santa seemed so aggravated, it was Christmas after all. He must’ve picked up on my feeling as he flashed me a weak smile before flinging his Santa sack over his shoulder and disappearing into the crowd. I shrugged, not wanting to let it ruin my day. There was just one more shop to hit before I would pack up my credit card for the day. There were some perks to living with my parents after all, I thought with a grin.
My arms were full as I made my way out for the mall; my feet and bank balance both a little worse for wear. Nearly everything on my Christmas list had been bought so I was ready to tackle the next thing on my ‘to do list’…wrapping.
Juggling bags while trying to find my keys, I made my way to the car, humming jingle bells rock softly as I thought about trimming the tree with my mum and sister later tonight. In hindsight I should have been paying attention to the things around me. Maybe I would have done things differently…then again, maybe not. Who knows? But, as I heard the beep of my car’s central locking system activate, a shot rang out. One loud bang followed by another and another.
I didn’t feel anything at first. No searing pain. No ache. Screams echoed all around me. Everything seemed to be moving in fast forward while I was stuck in slow motion, watching as others fled for safety, sheltering themselves behind cars as others rushed into stores… I didn’t understand what was happening. Another shot followed by three more sounded as I glanced to my left. There had been a loud thud followed by several screams before everything had gone very quiet. All I could hear now was the muffled sounds of crying and Christmas carols. It was very unnerving. Suddenly I wondered as to when I had fallen? The presents I had picked out were scattered around me as a surge of panic flooded my veins. Another loud shot rang out, so loud that I wanted to cover my ears. It was at that point in which I realized I must have been hit by a bullet. I glanced around me once more.
An old man had fallen onto his back a few feet across from me, blood slowly pooling from underneath him. I had a thought, that maybe I could help him, I was a nurse after all but as I tried to move my legs they stayed still. Five others were lying on the on the cold, hard ground like me. I was too far away to help the others but the old man was close enough that I if I could get to him maybe I could help in some way. My nursing instincts kicked in and I called out to the man.
“Sir, are you ok?” I asked, the man didn’t respond but I could see that he was still breathing. I moved my arms, laying them out in front of me. My legs might not have been working properly but I was determined to move forward. There was a young man with his finger against his lips telling me to be quiet. I glared at him, the guy was early thirties and hiding behind his Audi, I was outraged. How dare he hide behind a car judging me for helping others? This young guy was far more capable then I and yet he did not offer either me or any of the others a helping hand. The thought to scream at the top of my lungs was far too tempting.
“Why won’t you help him?” I cried out as hushed as I dare be. The guy only two maybe three feet away shook his head. I watched as the old man lying in front of me groaned, his hand dropping to the side. I worried I wouldn’t make it time.
“God, please…someone help him. Can’t you see he will die if we leave him out here!” I pleaded to deaf ears.
“Shut up.” declared a voice, followed by another gunshot though I wasn’t sure where it came from. All I could focus on was the man as the sound of a child crying in the background soon hushed. I prayed that the child was ok and not a victim.
“Matt.” Another soft groan escaped from the poor man’s lips. I was worried about how bad his injuries might be. Every ounce of strength I had left, I used to reach the man.
“Sir…” I struggled to finish what I was saying. I felt cold. Really cold yet my only concern was to help him. I looked around at all the scared faces, hiding where they could. Using my arms I inched myself forward. ‘Oh god’, it hurt so bad that black dots appeared before my eyes…or maybe I was losing too much blood. I hadn’t really checked myself but I knew I was doing ok as long as I stayed awake and coherent. Christmas carols were now being drowned out by sirens. I knew police were on the scene, it was only a matter of time before help would arrive. All I had to do was stay awake until they could reach us.
“Sir, can you hear me?” I asked, trying to keep my tone nice and even.
We were out in the open, easy pickings for the shooter. I knew how this worked, police, medics…none of them would come until it was safe but hopefully that wouldn’t be too long now. Another shot echoed in the distanced as if mocking me. The sound was deafening even over the siren. Still it was hard to tell where the gunman was shooting from. Nothing around me was disturbed and truthfully I didn’t care if the shooter noticed me or not. If I was going to die then I wanted to do it on my own terms. I wanted to die knowing I wasn’t too scared to help a stranger on Christmas. Maybe it was my tenacity which made the shooter ignore me or maybe he was trying to think of an escape plan. I guess I would never know but while whatever was going on; I continued to do what I knew was right.
There was a lot of blood now pooled around him as I tried to see where it was coming from, one wound in his chest and one in his leg. The chest one was only a small entry wound but from the blood pouring out under him I knew the exit wound must be bad. My pulse jumped into my throat as I realized that there was not a lot I could do for him in my condition. Maybe if he had been rushed to hospital, he might have survived but even I had doubts.
In his left hand lay a small velvet box. It was too large for it to be a ring box. I grabbed his hand removing the box. His pulse was weak. A horrid thought entered my mind for I knew he didn’t have long left in this world. Carefully I placed the box in the waistband of my jeans. I didn’t know what was in it but I’d be damned if I’d let someone steal it.
Tilting my head I whispered. “Sir, it’s all right. Everything is going to be fine; I’m here to help you. All you have to do is hold on a little bit longer.”
I wasn’t expecting him to answer but it would have been reassuring. He was so close to death that I figured the best thing I could do was to hold him close and let him know he wasn’t alone. With my head resting beside his shoulder I held his hand and waited, whispering reassuring words. I didn’t feel cold any more instead I felt tired, so, with my hand clasped in the man’s I let myself drift off knowing I might never awaken. Jingle bells rock still playing in my mind as I hummed the tune wondering if I would ever see my family again.
Rebecca Nolan
Flash fiction
Emma,
Firstly I want to apologize for taking so long to write babe, it has been non-stop here and every time I have a moment to write, I find myself lost for words. Over here is so different from back home. The heat is crazy! It feels like it’ll never end. Most nights I can see the stars, there are so many some nights that I almost forget where I am, at least until the gunfire starts or some alarm sounds.
I’m sorry for rambling, it’s just so hard to think about things to write that wouldn’t sound far worse then they are. The guys loved the cookies you sent over and have been begging me to ask you to send another batch over. Also I loved your little extra special gift. It reminds me every night of how lucky I am to have such a beautiful wife. You, my dearest Emma, keep me fighting when I feel like giving up.
I want to know how you are going? Is being on base alone as hard as some on the other wives tell their husbands… or am I to believe your last letter lol. I want you to be doing ok. Only six more months until I am home, babe. Less than that until leave…and baby, I can’t tell you how excited I am about that.
Actually I was thinking about it and once this tour is over we should think about starting our family. Before you write back tell me that wasn’t in our plan, I know it isn’t. I know we are young but being here…it makes me think about you, and me and us, and how short life really is. We lost two guys yesterday. I didn’t know them but news travels fast around here.
Anyway I need to go. I don’t want to go, baby, but I’ll be home soon.
Love you forever
Marcus.
I flipped through the letters, selecting random ones to read as I contemplated the idea of going on a date. It had been eighteen months since Marcus had been shot. It still hurt. It hurt so bad that I didn’t want to live. How could I?
I place the letter back into the box, the one that held my most precious memories of him. Our wedding photos, letters and his wedding ring, they were all in this one shoebox. Our time felt so short. I didn’t want to move one. I didn’t know how too.
There was one letter, a letter one of his fellow troops had delivered to me months after his funeral. That’s how Daniel and I met. He had turned up on my doorstep, in his uniform and handed me the last letter Marcus had ever written me. Daniel had held me as I cried and stayed and tucked me into bed after I drank two bottles of wine. He had been my rock and now that he was out of the military he wanted to go on a date with me.
I didn’t know what to do. I look at that letter, crumpled and sitting there, staring at me. I unfolded it carefully.
To my Dearest Emma
If you are reading this, then I am so sorry, baby. I never wanted to leave you. Writing this is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I pray that this will never reach you. I can’t imagine a life without you and me. But, if for some, something has happened to me that I need you to know a few things.
Firstly you are and have always been the love of my life.
That if I had any choice I would always choose a life that would see us growing old together.
However if you are reading this and I am gone, then I apologize for ruining our plan once again.
Remember that you will okay, that I want you to be okay and to find happiness. You are too beautiful to be alone. You have such a strength about you, that I know you find away to move on.
Lastly Emma, and this is important so believe me when you read these words!
Emma you will love again. Don’t give up on happiness. Please find someone for me.
I have and forever will love you!
Marcus
I placed it back in to the box, feeling better even though it still hurt. A small part of me wondered if Marcus had some part in Daniel and I finding one another.
For More Free stories please feel free to check out my Wattpad page. Hoping to publish a flash fiction collection with two other amazing Wattpad writers.
http://www.wattpad.com/user/RebeccaNo...
http://www.wattpad.com/user/TheMusesTrio
Firstly I want to apologize for taking so long to write babe, it has been non-stop here and every time I have a moment to write, I find myself lost for words. Over here is so different from back home. The heat is crazy! It feels like it’ll never end. Most nights I can see the stars, there are so many some nights that I almost forget where I am, at least until the gunfire starts or some alarm sounds.
I’m sorry for rambling, it’s just so hard to think about things to write that wouldn’t sound far worse then they are. The guys loved the cookies you sent over and have been begging me to ask you to send another batch over. Also I loved your little extra special gift. It reminds me every night of how lucky I am to have such a beautiful wife. You, my dearest Emma, keep me fighting when I feel like giving up.
I want to know how you are going? Is being on base alone as hard as some on the other wives tell their husbands… or am I to believe your last letter lol. I want you to be doing ok. Only six more months until I am home, babe. Less than that until leave…and baby, I can’t tell you how excited I am about that.
Actually I was thinking about it and once this tour is over we should think about starting our family. Before you write back tell me that wasn’t in our plan, I know it isn’t. I know we are young but being here…it makes me think about you, and me and us, and how short life really is. We lost two guys yesterday. I didn’t know them but news travels fast around here.
Anyway I need to go. I don’t want to go, baby, but I’ll be home soon.
Love you forever
Marcus.
I flipped through the letters, selecting random ones to read as I contemplated the idea of going on a date. It had been eighteen months since Marcus had been shot. It still hurt. It hurt so bad that I didn’t want to live. How could I?
I place the letter back into the box, the one that held my most precious memories of him. Our wedding photos, letters and his wedding ring, they were all in this one shoebox. Our time felt so short. I didn’t want to move one. I didn’t know how too.
There was one letter, a letter one of his fellow troops had delivered to me months after his funeral. That’s how Daniel and I met. He had turned up on my doorstep, in his uniform and handed me the last letter Marcus had ever written me. Daniel had held me as I cried and stayed and tucked me into bed after I drank two bottles of wine. He had been my rock and now that he was out of the military he wanted to go on a date with me.
I didn’t know what to do. I look at that letter, crumpled and sitting there, staring at me. I unfolded it carefully.
To my Dearest Emma
If you are reading this, then I am so sorry, baby. I never wanted to leave you. Writing this is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I pray that this will never reach you. I can’t imagine a life without you and me. But, if for some, something has happened to me that I need you to know a few things.
Firstly you are and have always been the love of my life.
That if I had any choice I would always choose a life that would see us growing old together.
However if you are reading this and I am gone, then I apologize for ruining our plan once again.
Remember that you will okay, that I want you to be okay and to find happiness. You are too beautiful to be alone. You have such a strength about you, that I know you find away to move on.
Lastly Emma, and this is important so believe me when you read these words!
Emma you will love again. Don’t give up on happiness. Please find someone for me.
I have and forever will love you!
Marcus
I placed it back in to the box, feeling better even though it still hurt. A small part of me wondered if Marcus had some part in Daniel and I finding one another.
For More Free stories please feel free to check out my Wattpad page. Hoping to publish a flash fiction collection with two other amazing Wattpad writers.
http://www.wattpad.com/user/RebeccaNo...
http://www.wattpad.com/user/TheMusesTrio
