Some of his guys were out on a mission one night and ended up at the “wrong” house. They were looking for a specific person and apparently the informant gave or received the wrong address. In Iraqi culture, if you are in their house, they will invite you to have Chai (a type of tea) and food. This particular house had a different offering so to speak…a baby girl who was in desperate need of AMERICAN healthcare because Iraqi healthcare couldn’t help her. The grandmother thrust the baby into one soldiers arm and screamed something. The interpreter understood her; she was crying out, “Help my baby!” The little girl looked like she was in good health at a glance but when they took a closer look they found what appeared to be a large tumor on her back.

The phone conversation was amazing and I was so excited to be a part of this.  The email had been brief and he wanted to tell me more.  It simply said:  ”Well, I have a baby that you can help me pray for. We found this little girl during a raid on a suspects house. She is 79 days old and has a huge Mass on her spine and a large hernia on her side. The Iraqi doctors told the parents to take her home, there was nothing they could do for her. They gave her only 40 days to live. She eats well, is alert and fairly active. She just needs medical help, United States type medical help. I was thinking Emory University Childrens Hospital.

I took a Doctor out (covertly) last night and had the baby examined. The Doc says that if we get her to the States, she has a great chance of living a normal life.”

Over the next few nights, they returned to the house. They brought medicine, provisions, etc. to the family. On a few occasions, they brought an Army doctor who agreed to see the baby. She was not supposed to be out of the base but agreed to go anyway. It was determined that “Baby Noor” had Spina Bifida and needed serious surgery to save her life. This baby brought much needed cheer to these guys who were separated from their families and friends back home.

Through the help of a church that Jeff attended in the past, some politicians, the Atlanta news media and the support of many people back home, Jeff was able to make arrangements for her to be flown to Atlanta and have her surgery. A doctor at the children’s hospital agreed to do the surgery at no charge. We kept in touch over what was happening and he told me as much as he could. I also talked to the church enough to know what he, for security’s sake, couldn’t tell me. She was coming to Atlanta on New Year’s Eve. I was determined to do everything I could to be there and bring my kids. I read every article that the Atlanta newspaper published, answered phone calls for interviews and told them all about Jeff that they wanted to know.

Noor is Arabic for LIGHT and she was exactly that!!! For ALL of us!!!!  This is a photo of her as a baby:

Baby Noor flew with her grandmother and father to Atlanta for life-saving surgery.  Everything was donated…money, the hospital, the doctor, the flight over.  People poured out their hearts to her and helped to save her life.  People showed up to the airport in droves to welcome her here!  It was a magical day for all involved!

I had seen enough war and spy movies to get a little bit of a picture of what war might be like. I feel like I was pretty grounded in reality. I heard so much about things over there that I felt like I was relatively familiar with the situation. (Nothing Jeff told me when he came home surprised me.) While Jeff was over there we talked about things here at home mainly. I knew enough that to understand that he was immersed in war and the last thing he wanted to talk about was things over there. I also knew for his safety and the safety of everyone else over there, he couldn’t tell me much. I figured if he could tell me, he would and if not, I wouldn’t ask and probably didn’t need to know.
Meanwhile, I had to stay positive. Jeff had enough stress in his life over there that he didn’t need to know that I was stressed constantly. I had to be positive, upbeat and happy on the phone and in emails even if I was anything but that. I told him what was going on at home, with my kids, and at church. I would tell him all about my day. I was always so excited to hear his voice. I’m sure he was homesick when he talked to someone Stateside.

When I first met Jeff, his son Daniel was in Iraq.  Daniel was the first person that I talked on the phone who was overseas.  There was a delay over the phone and you had to get used to that but it was great talking to someone who was serving our country.  Daniel had been over there since sometime in the spring of that year.  (The end of March, I think.)  I had a hard time sleeping knowing someone that I cared about had a child in a warzone.  I ended up not sleeping for the next 11 months until both of them were home.

Jeff was gone for seven months.  It was difficult and challenging for me and I think I handled my situation pretty well.  I tried to stay positive.  It was all I could do to get out of bed in the morning but I DID.  I pulled together every ounce of determination I could muster to keep myself going.  It was probably the toughest thing I ever did in my life.

Many military families live on base and, if you’re one of those families, you have a support group that helps you through the deployment.  BUT…the National Guard is made up of citizen-soldiers.  They live in a civilian community and most have a different full-time career.  That community cannot relate to the military families unless they have been through it themselves.  It’s not a closely-knit base community where everyone understands a deployment and can counsel you through it.  A Guard deployment is similar to isolation.  The civilian world doesn’t understand you and the military world is far enough removed that they aren’t always readily available.

The National Guard has an FRG (Family Readiness Group) but sometimes your unit may be spread out all over the state in which you reside.  For instance in Jeff’s unit, the guys lived in all areas of Georgia.  The FRG was set-up so that you wouldn’t be stranded if something happened…flat tire, etc. … but you might have to wait a while for someone to rescue you.  It is probably easier to call a neighbor or relative.  I was stranded twice in one month with a flat tire (once in the rain) and, both times, a “good Samaritan” helped me out of a jam.  (I am forever in debt to them both!!!)

I have heard that as soon as deployment starts, an insane number of things will break in a short period of time.  It’s kinda like the piece of electronics, appliance, or car that was good until the day after the warranty expired.  All you-know-what breaks loose!!!  Fortunately, this did not happen to me.

When Jeff was gone, I talked to several people about the kind of things that occurred while he was gone.  My results were mostly positive…if you need anything, call, email, or knock on the door.  I also had the occasional bad attitude toward my lifestyle.  The basic “You knew what you were getting into…” or “Why on earth did you choose a military guy to fall in love with?”  Well, we can‘t help who our hearts fall for and, NO, I really had little idea what was going to happen outside of it was a matter of WHEN not IF he would deploy.  (I never knew anyone personally who had deployed during my lifetime.  I wasn’t sure what to expect outside of loneliness.)

Deployment is inevitable and it really stinks.  I didn’t sleep or eat well.  I became so unhealthy.  I cried.  I was lonely.  I watched more TV and movies (thanks to the movies that come in the mail) than I care to admit.  I didn’t leave the house much except for work.  If I hadn’t had a job, I probably would have stayed in my PJ’s all day and maybe not even showered.  I was the biggest mess I could make myself into but most of all I was depressed.  I would sit on the floor and cry (more on this later!)  I lived on the computer waiting for an email or an instant message to come through for me.  I had even set the computer up in a strategic location so that I would hear the messages come through if I was in the house.

One suggestion:  If you know someone going through a spouse’s deployment, get her/him out of the house.  Take them to dinner or movie or shopping.  Get them involved in a service, club, card game, or anything else that would take his/her mind off their situation.  There are many people who do not know how to relate to a military family; just be a friend and that will get it started.

When I first met Jeff, I never dreamed that we would go through what we have been through (and live!!!) We have been through our individual divorces, a deployment to Iraq, combining two households in a major move, unemployment and recovery, heart surgery and recovery (and all that led up to that, of course), the stresses of exes, kid issues, among many other problems. We are living and breathing examples of the phrase: “What doesn’t kill ya makes ya stronger”!

Leading up to when Jeff went to Iraq on October 7, 2005, I dreaded hearing a particular song about waking up at the end of September. I felt like it was the end of the world…or at least the end of my life. The first week of October felt like a whirlwind. We had a cookout for his friends and family and we went to Lake Alatoona among other things that week…it was a blur!

The day before he left, we dropped him off at Oglethorpe Armory which is just outside of Ft. Gillem in the Atlanta area. It was a nasty day with just enough mist to be annoying. He was supposed to stay the night and the next morning they would have a send-off for the guys before they left. My world was caving in on me and I was feeling hopelessly depressed. I walked around aimlessly and felt like a lost puppy. I had found “the man of my dreams” and he was going away…to a war where soldiers were dying!

Later that evening he called me and they had no room in the inn…he was home one more night. I was recovering. The next morning we took him back to the armory and my world came crashing down around me. He asked me to wait for him and of course I agreed! How could I not?!!!

He left the Armory headed to the airport and called me before he boarded the plane. I did not answer the phone and he left a message. I may have done that intentionally so that I would have his voice on a recording (just in case). Late that evening he flew to Fort Drum, NY. I thought I’d never see him again.

Over the next three weeks, we talked on the phone every chance we had. We also sent text messages to each other. He spent so much time in the field that he had to conserve the battery on the phone so our communications were short and few. I got a taste of what was about to happen when he went to Iraq. I cried daily and I was in anguish over him being gone but I was determined to get through this if it was the last thing I ever did. At the end of October, he left New York headed for the dessert.

I remembered all the stories my mother, aunts and grandmother told me about being a military family. They were fortunate in that my Grandfather was never deployed but he did still fly training missions (countless numbers of them) during that time. By the time my grandparents were married, World War II was over. And I had never known anyone personally who actually deployed in my lifetime even though I had military all throughout my family. Nothing prepared me for what was about to take place in my life. Everyday was a struggle just to get out of bed.

During the time he was gone, I searched for a new job. I worked for a lawyer’s office and needed to get a different job. I did everything I could to keep my mind occupied. I did have the chance to talk to his son Daniel and Daniel’s girlfriend Marji through instant messages and webcams. (Daniel and his dad overlapped in Iraq for 6 months and I didn’t sleep during the time that either or both of them were over there.)

The first half of his tour over there, he traveled around with a laptop so we were able to communicate some through email more than phone calls. I knew he would be gone for days at a time so I would patiently wait for him to call…it was tough. The lines for phones were long and they had limited time to call home. He also had many people to call.  Another reason to keep it short.  Thank God for the Internet and email.

The last half of his tour, he had a computer and phone on a desk and was able to call me at least every other day because his missions were shorter and closer by.

It was the longest 7 months of my life.

I grew up in the Atlanta area with just dad in the house which was not conducive to developing a culinary background.  Therefore, I never really learned how to cook.  I have collected MANY cookbooks over the years but couldn’t really tell you the difference between baking soda and baking powder.  I have enough trouble with icing and frosting…hey, they both go on the top of a cake; that’s all I know!!!  I am thankful for a husband, step-daughter and daughter who love to cook and teach me on a regular basis.  I hope that one day, lying on my death-bed, I can say I mastered the art of cooking. Or at least that I learned some things from the “masters”.

Writing was never my forte either.  In fact, I have been unsuccessful at not triumphing-over even a little of the English language.  My dad and I used to joke that English was my second language!!!  (The jury is still out on what is my FIRST!)  I did make pretty good grades in my English classes but sometimes I wondered if my teachers/professors felt sorry for me or feared that they would have to read my writing again in the future.

Creativity was a whole other story.  I can draw stick figures; take many blurry or slightly blurry pictures; I can’t even write music (which I majored-in in college); baking is difficult; scrapbooking…forget it!!  (I read books to get ideas.  I can’t even make it come close to looking like the picture.  My excuse is, of course, I didn’t intend it to look like the picture.  HEE HEE!!!)  Other things that require some creativity, I just bypass.  Don’t ask me to volunteer my creative juices…I have none!!!

That leads me to my BIGGEST challenge:  my family!!!  I have 3 kids, 5step-kids and a very young puppy.  I came from a small family and it wasn’t the best learning environment for how to organize a small family much less a BIG family.  (In addition to not being conducive to learning to cook, it was also not favorable to developing a mother/wife background!!!  HA!!!)  I am not organized and not the best housekeeper.  In reality, I am a GREAT advertisement for why the Brady Bunch had Alice!!!

I am incredibly fortunate to have a cabinet in my house.  I have creative, talented and artistic folks all around me.  If I need coaching, I just call a name or phone number!!! HELP ME, PLEASE, I cry into the phone or that person’s shoulder or ear. I have had many people save my backside and I am thankful to have that support group. My hind side would definitely have more bumps and bruises if not for that.

One of the important things that I have learned is that things can and do change. Accepting this, on the other hand, was a test for me. Many times over, I witnessed how life can get better with change. Quite frequently, the change made aspects of life or life in general easier or run more smoothly. God puts forth modifications because he knows that it will be better but we don’t always see it that way until later. And sometimes it is much further down the road of life. For example, some drastic changes took place in my childhood and I found out over 30 years later why they happened…I would have to help others through some of the same experiences. Part of maturity is how you handle the situation as you go through it and as you coach someone else.

Many things have changed in my life. If I had predicted 10 years ago (or even 5 years ago) where I would be right now, it certainly would not have been here. In fact, I was never going to get married, have kids, etc. I have now been married twice and have a houseful of kids…sorry to sound cliché but NEVER say NEVER!!!

A few months ago, I saw the movie Julie and Julia and I was surprised by three things:

1. It wasn’t what I expected.
   
2. How easily circumstances can change when you put forth the effort.
   
3. How important the little things are in life.
   

I was inspired that night to author a blog and, despite being neither a writer nor a chef; having challenges in the creativity department; and running a household with 8 members and puppy, I am now ready to overcome these potential obstacles and not allow them to pose any issues for me. I was amazed that someone (that someone being me, of course) would WANT to write. Even though I have had some great stories take place in my life, I never pictured myself as a story-teller. I make people laugh when I tell them a story but as far as putting them down on paper, I couldn’t see myself doing that. But…for some reason, I feel the NEED to write.

Of course the initial thought is…who on earth would want to read anything about me, my family and our life?!?! We’ll see, won’t we?!!

As a young girl, I was more of a tomboy than a girly girl. I liked to roughhouse with the boys more than playing with dolls and dress-up clothes. I liked reading some fairy tales but thought they were silly…Prince Charming? Yea, right!!! How many princesses could one guy marry anyway…even if he was a Prince?

Let’s see…Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White…come on now isn’t it illegal in this country to marry more than one wife? But there he is, it seems, in EVERY story of a princess. My question is why on earth did he have to keep on “charming” these ladies. Couldn’t he hold onto a girlfriend? (Maybe there should be books in between…kinda like what Gregory Maguire did with the “Wizard of Oz”…to show the transition periods…the real life stuff!) I figure after each story one of three things happened that they don’t put in the books. Either Prince Charming got tired of spoiling the present princess and moved on to the next one; he was a jerk and got dumped; or they lived happily ever after for a period of time and then ended up on TV in Divorce Court or on Jerry Springer duking-it-out! Who knows?! He did try to steal Princess Fiona in Shrek 2 and failed. Has anyone heard from him lately? No? I guess he ran out of Princesses to chase after…maybe he is attending Princesses Anonymous or maybe he ended up in jail for bigamy!!

My belief is that fairy tales don’t really come true. And if they did…when was my knight in shining armor coming to my rescue? Could he at least knock on my door? One day, he did! He knocked on my door to inquire about taking my kids to a show with his kids and that was the beginning of our fairy tale. The fairy tale continued as we spent as much time together as was possible. We had meals together; took long walks together; saw movies; and did whatever we could together. I would walk out to my car and find a rose on my windshield or he would come by my office and bring me flowers or a plant. We were in the middle of a whirlwind adventure and I felt like not just a princess but a queen. I had never been treated so well. It was the first time in my life that I was put on a pedestal as if I was worth something. So this is what those princesses were after in their tales. I had finally found my knight in shining armor (aka Prince Charming)!

I grew up in an environment that didn’t teach cooking lessons. Mom wasn’t around and dad did the best he could. We ate a lot of restaurant food and easy-to-prepare meal. We were also the guests of other people who did cook. This lack of cooking ability carried over into college where they cook for you. After I got married the first time, I didn’t really learn much because my husband grew up in New Orleans and he loved to cook. When my husband and I separated, I ate easy stuff…back to cans and boxes.

When I was a single mother who had to share custody of her kids with their dad, I ate ice cream for breakfast to attempt to get my day started off “right”. My next door neighbor (who is now my husband) was shocked at my refrigerator. I had tons of ice cream; a few frozen dinners for lunches at work and dinners alone. My kids thought I was so cool because we would start our meal off with dessert…just in case we “died during dinner and never got to the dessert”.

Well, leave it to me to fall in-love with a man who had a big family so I was forced to cook and eat at home…not to mention a man that LOVES to eat good SOUTHERN food. We had to eat at home to keep from going broke. Even eating at the cheap fast-food restaurants would eventually break the bank. So, I had to break-out my cookbook collection and dust off the pages. Thankfully, I had collected them over my lifetime for reference and tried to teach myself some things over the years about the art of cooking. That doesn’t mean that it worked but I did try!

From the beginning Jeff and I usually got together over a meal. Occasionally, we would get all the kids together to eat dinner at his house. He would cook-out on the grill or have something really tasty in the oven or crock-pot. He was a GREAT cook (and still is!!!) I would contribute a meal here and there…thanks to one of my cookbooks! One night I cooked a HUGE pot of my secret ingredient spaghetti… I think I won his heart this way because after that, I couldn’t get him to leave me alone…not that I wanted him to leave me alone but I instantly had this shadow that followed me! HA HA!

I have since learned how to batter and fry meats and vegetables, including country fried steak and okra; make several different kinds of pot roast in a crock-pot, including a kickin’ sweet and sour pot roast; use basic seasonings and various other simple skills. I am so glad that I saved my cookbook collection over the years because I would be lost. I still cannot throw something together at the drop of a hat like Jeff does on occasion but I am no longer a hopeless cause either!!

We do manage to go out about once a month and when we do, we have to set limits on what we spend. Talk about having to be frugal…our kids have learned to budget early!! We could very easily spend a small fortune even in the cheapest of restaurants. Good news…we did find a website where you can buy gift certificates for places to eat for far less than face value. That way we can go out about once a month as a family and not spend too much of a fortune!

People can be replaced by other people but it is NEVER the same. Most of the time it is better and it moves you through a learning process. For example, my mother left home when I was around 11 years old. Her role in my life was replaced by my dad, female friends of my dad’s, and the mothers of friends of mine. It wasn’t the same but it was better than no “mom” at all. And even though it was only the role of “mom” that was replaced, it kept me from growing up with no example of what a mother was supposed to be.

After God dragged me kicking and screaming to my “Nineveh” and it turned out that it was not what I thought, I met the most amazing man I have ever known. I had one dwelling taken away and replaced by a bigger, better dwelling. I also met a man who needed me. (I would later find out that I needed him more than I cared to admit.)

My first meeting with him involved laundry day. I was hanging-up my clothes because my dryer was not hooked up yet. He offered his dryer in his basement. I accepted and headed next door where he left the door unlocked so I could get in. Meanwhile he took the kids to a magic show in “the big white bus” (aka his kids’ nickname for their van). The van would become our bus-ride to everything…LOL! When he returned with a vanload of kids, Jeff offered to carry my clothes back over to my house. I growled a no at him…I’m a BIG independent girl who doesn’t need help carrying things! HA!!

The next meeting was late one night after I had trouble sleeping. I had wandered out into our cul-de-sac to watch the night sky in hopes of relaxing again. My obsession with aircraft was showing by the fact that my head was in the clouds. I kept hearing a noise as if someone was piling stuff up somewhere in the next driveway. Suddenly, I heard this booming voice ask…what brings you out so late? I returned the question after I answered that I had a bad dream. I went on to explain that this was common at this point in my life and yes I do have trouble sleeping at night. He had been spying on me from a distance and throwing bags of junk into the back of his truck to haul away to the dump.

He inquired about what I was looking at since my head was facing upward. The planes that flew over our houses were low enough that they seemed like they would fall out of the sky. You could almost read the writing on them. I explained why I had this obsession…pilot’s blood runs rampant in my family…and how I had always wanted to fly; just never got the chance (except this one time I actually steered a Cessna over the county I lived in from the jail to my house. That was one of the highest points in my life…it reaffirmed my desire!)

That night he re-introduced himself but the next day I could not remember what his name was. All I could remember was that he had told me that when his next promotion went through, he would be Captain Morgan. His first name was way beyond my recalling. I looked him up in the phone book to find out his real identity!

After I figured out that his name was Jeff and we became really good friends, we continued our relationship by sitting outside and talking to each other. It was a long time before I told him about forgetting his name, though. I’m not sure that would have given the right impression early on. He did laugh about it when I finally told him…phew!!!

We spent as much time together as possible. We took our kids places together and both families ate together as much as possible. Things began to get a little better in our lives or at least we were working together to conquer the obstacles and then the bottom fell out again. As summer’s end and fall’s beginning quickly approached, things started to move at a RAPID pace. We decided to attend a High school football game one night and before we went into the stadium, he pulled me aside. He said he had to ask me a serious question. I held my breath and thought this guy is wacko for asking serious questions this early on…I really had no idea! We stepped aside and he took my hand in his. He asked me to move into his house in October. “WHAT?! ARE YOU CRAZY?! I’m not living with…oh my God…you are going to Iraq; aren’t you?!” I was raising my voice and I didn’t even realize it. This was his way of breaking bad news to me and I was devastated. There was a football game that took place that night so they say but I couldn’t tell you who played, what the score was or anything else about it.

At the time of his announcement, Military guys were coming back in body bags. He had just notified a family of their son’s death earlier that month. All this was fresh in my mind. My fear was that I was going to lose him in a war. I immediately went down the wrong path mentally. I cried and got angry. Trust me, I did not need another reason to be MAD at God…He had given me many reasons in the past to justify, in my eyes, my anger. The weird thing is that it drove me closer to Him than I had ever been in my life. My church family embraced us and helped us prepare for the transitioning periods that followed.

We were well-supported but the next five weeks would be the shortest weeks of my life…I vowed to spend every waking moment that I could with him. We spent many a night outside in the front yard laughing and joking. We had chairs set-up in front of our houses waiting for us to return to them for more conversation. Some nights, when it would rain, we would campout in the back of the van under the back hatch door with barely enough room to sit down. That made for some great laughs!!!

I had sprained my ankle. It was very painful but the experience wasn’t too bad…my good-looking neighbor took care of me. Jeff and Dustin helped me inside and then Jeff wrapped my ankle and iced it. We laughed and joked about the whole situation. This was the first chance we had to get to know each other pretty well.

That night, he cooked for all of us. He brought me dinner at my house and had all the kids eating together. We talked about life and how we had gotten to where we were. Good and bad things that had shaped our lives; dreams that came true and those that were crushed into nonexistence.

He told me stories about the Army and its life. One of my favorite stories was when he witnessed a Full-bird Colonel “spin-out” on a freshly-waxed floor. They had just cleaned it to an Army shine when he walked in. The Colonel did a left face and kept on turning until he hit the floor. Of course, no one laughed until later!!! I’m sure some liquids were blown across the room at the next meal when someone finally had the nerve to bring-up the topic!! All I know is that it was difficult for me to quit laughing and I still get tickled when I see someone mopping or cleaning a floor…can’t help but picturing that in my mind!

Spraining my ankle was beneficial for both of us. It gave him an excuse to flirt with me and gave me the chance to be pampered by him!!! I, of course had a very logical explanation…I was showing off for the hot guy next door.

Hey, it worked didn’t it?!! I definitely got his attention!! Mission: accomplished!!!

Over the course of the next few months, Jeff and I would experience many things together.  Some things were fun and happy but others were very difficult.  We became really close friends, especially after I sprained my ankle (more on that later).  We spent many hours sitting outside together, talking, laughing and sharing personal experiences.  Our friendship grew in many ways.  We began to realize that there was more between us but we had to be careful since we were both healing from previous relationships. We decided to take it slow and easy.

My previous marriage had ended much more civil than his. After a bitter separation, my ex and I parted ways with the kids as our main focus. His ex, on the other hand, ran-off with another man (their pastor) and left him with 5 kids. The story that circulated was that he beat her which was far from the truth. Long story short, the affair broke apart two families that had a total of 7 children and a church. It affected the lives of countless numbers of people. Even today, there are still many people who were members of that church who, several years later, still refused to go to church any more. It was a really devastating situation.

The heart-breaking result was that the kids were the worst affected by what happened. The oldest 4 of his children have little or nothing to do with their mom. The other doesn’t understand what happened.

I am thankful to be a part of his Jeff’s kids’ lives…they are GREAT kids!!! I have been a part of many celebrations…not just birthdays and holidays but also a wedding, military homecomings, graduations, sporting events, award ceremonies, and so many others that I am thankful to have been a part of.