I have mentioned many times how thankful I am for my husband. I am so thankful that he is also sharing some of the things he is thankful for of this military life. Today’s post he will be taking over and writing about his thankfulness.
Perspective is defined as a particular attitude toward, or way of regarding
something. Gaining perspective is not something taught in school, or something you
can learn by watching a YouTube tutorial, but is gained through life experiences and
I am grateful for the perspective that has come from the military life Heidi and I
chose to live.
Our first son Jack was born on April 8th, 2014 while I was away on deployment. I
was stationed aboard the USS Bataan, an amphibious landing ship, (think small
aircraft carrier), and was fortunate enough to actually be on land in Djibouti, Africa
for some training during the week of his birth.
For those of you unfamiliar with Djibouti (DJ is the common short hand saying) it is
one of the poorest countries on the continent and is located on the east side within
the Horn of Africa. It was here I saw simple things like three men filling a dump
truck with dirt. With no heavy equipment. One shovel full at a time. For what reason
they needed that dirt, I have no idea, but nonetheless there they were, three men
and three shovels, for what I imagined was an entire day because it was all they had.
Similarly to my Iraq and Afghanistan deployments I would see children running
across some of the worst terrain imaginable, all without shoes, and couldn’t help but
feel like I should somehow help them. Sometimes we are able to help, but other
times we were just passing through and could do nothing.
Now, back to Jack’s birthday. I took two pictures while I sat in the Internet café at
Camp Lemonier. The first picture was from my seat, inside an air-conditioned
trailer, watching a FaceTime video of Heidi back at the hospital at Camp Lejeune.
The second picture was taken just outside of the café overlooking the desert and
Camp Lemonier. I’ve always liked these two pictures because they are a very visual
representation of perspective and of where Heidi and I both were during such an
important part of our lives.
Fast forward a few years, Heidi and I had recently welcomed our second son Maxton
Cole into the world, and we were sitting in a doctor’s office together listening to
them tell us Jack had a form of Muscular Dystrophy and later learn that both our
children have this. Now, while I’m sure Heidi and I could write a book just on this
day alone, for now I will just use it as another example of a new perspective gained.
Nothing makes you look at the world differently than when you learn your child is
sick and there is no immediate cure or fix to the problem. Suddenly, you find ways to
look at everyday as a gift, evaluate everything you have done, or currently do on a
daily basis, and try to make the absolute best of everything. While we certainly
would have found out about this diagnosis eventually, and even if we were not in the
military, it is through the healthcare provided that we found out as early as we did.
And early is huge. It allows for early intervention and therapies years ahead of when
we would have normally started.
Perspective is everything for me now. I try to not take simple things for granted, or
more importantly, not get upset, angry, or down on myself, for what ultimately end
up being trivial circumstances.
