It’s a fact of military life: we can’t always be with our extended family when we/they want us to be. Whether it’s a wedding, a family reunion or any other major event; sometimes often we simply cannot be there.
In 2007, Stretch was in the midst of a 12-month deployment. He came home for R & R just in time for our oldest child’s birthday. We were able to meet family at a half-way point to celebrate and generally had a great 2 weeks. Then, almost as soon as Stretch left to return to the sandbox, I received a call telling me that his great-uncle had passed away. Stretch had been close to this uncle and was even named after him. I had no way of getting in touch with Stretch to tell him. And even if I could, the likelihood of getting him back for the funeral was nonexistent. I had to wait for him to get in touch with me after he had returned to duty. By this time, the funeral had already occurred.
It was never far from my mind when we moved 12-13 time zones in 2005 that something could happen to a family member back in the States. We were, quite literally, on the other side of the planet. Getting “home” would be time-consuming and expensive, even if it wasn’t on short notice. Stretch’s grandmother’s health was declining and we could never be sure how much time she had left. So for the 2 years we lived overseas, I had plans percolating in the back of my mind, just in case. The past 2 years, we lived in the same time zone, but were still at least 14 driving hours away. So, again, I tried to formulate a plan in case we got that call. Fortunately, we never needed to implement any of those plans.
Last summer, we PCS’d closer to Stretch’s family. Now, we are merely 6 hours away. But, oh, what a difference that makes! At the end of the summer, Stretch’s grandmother passed away. We were able to attend the funeral and even stay a few days to spend some time with his parents. Although the occasion was sad, I was so grateful that we were in a location and position to make that possible. Just a few years ago, I’m not sure we could have made it happen.
Just a few months later, I received notification that my grandmother had passed, too. And that the funeral would be 2 days later. I spent the rest of that day scrambling to figure out what to do, make travel arrangements and pack. We decided that I would fly to the funeral alone since taking the entire family would be prohibitively expensive and the kids were in school by this point in the year. Fortunately, Stretch’s schedule was such that he was able to look after the kids without additional help. Thank goodness for our current assignment! If we’d been anywhere else and if Stretch had a different assignment, I don’t think attending my grandmother’s funeral would have been possible for me.
Although we’ve mourned the passing of both of these ladies, we’ve been grateful that we had the opportunity to be with our extended families to say good-bye to them. As military families, we’re not always that lucky.
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When we lived in Germany, my grandmother died while my husband was in the field. I had to wait three days to even talk to him and tell him it had happened. And because the distance was so great and because we already had plans to come home for the holidays 6 weeks after that, I didn't fly home for the funeral. It's rough having an ocean between you and family…
That's awful, Sarah. But probably not uncommon. The whole time I was writing this post, I couldn't help but think of my mother in the early 1970's. She had a new baby (me) and was living on the other side of the world from her family. It wasn't until she returned to her homeland for a 2nd tour with my father that she learned that her mother had died the previous year.
When my grandma had a stroke that led to her death a couple days later, my husband was in the final stages of train-up for a deployment to Iraq. He was able to come to the hospital to see her before she passed and the visit meant a lot to all of us b/c it was one of the last times my Grandma showed any recognition of anyone or anything–we all joked she never could resist a man in uniform.
But, I was alone during the funeral and for all the icky family things that followed and it was not fun in the least, especially given that our daughters were very close to their Grandma Great.
So, even though we stay put being Guard, it doesn't mean we're always where we need to be when the time comes. I'm just really thankful he was here for at least a quick visit.
We had to make the decision of funeral or saying good-bye when I got the call that my Pop was dying. Because we were in New Jersey and my family is in California, I knew I could not do both. I could not stay indefinitely waiting for the end, and honestly, I did not want to. I don't think I could have handled an open ended death watch.
I chose to go say good-bye, and Pop hung on a little longer after that before he slipped away (he always was really strong). I was not there for his funeral, but I always felt that, for me, saying good bye one last time was the best way for it to be. And the last time he spoke coherently, it was when I walked in the hospital room. So he knew I was there.
I know I was very lucky that I had that.
We were not able to attend Air Force Guy's step-father's funeral (which happened as we were driving from one duty station to another), and that has always bothered AFG intensely.
We PCSed for the first time in April. May 5th we found out a member of my family had very unexpectedly died. We are blessed that we PCSed only 4ish hours from "home", but it still made it impossible to be there immediately. I wanted nothing more than to get in my car *right that second* and drive home. I very clearly remember thinking that was my first real dose of the down side of military life.
We haven't even PCSed for our first time yet and we just dealt with something similar. My husband is in AIT (prior service) and we had a 9 month old foster baby that we had raised since we picked him up at the hospital at 7 days old. We thought we were going to get to adopt him. While my hubby was gone, we found out that the baby was not going to be available for adoption after all, and that he was going to need to move to another foster home since we are PCSing in January. Heartbreaking. So, we lost a son, and my husband didn't even get to be here to say goodbye.
Thankfully we are blessed that we can talk almost every day, but talking for a few minutes on the phone is just not a way to deal with this sort of thing. It doesn't really allow for grieving.
When my FIL was in his final days, my MIL called and said, "Get here now." We lived 12 driving hours away and our son was only 2 1/2 months old. My husband was in the field and my MIL made a Red Cross call to get him home. We drove those long 12 hours, not knowing whether my FIL would still be alive when we got there.
We arrived early in the morning and he passed away three days later. We were able to see him when he could still recognize us and he was able to see and hold his first grandchild (my son). It was beautiful and sad at the same time. We have an awesome picture of my husband, his dad, and our son. One we will always cherish.
We were very fortunate to be there in his final days and attend the funeral. My son loves the picture of his "Pop Pop" holding him and feeding him a bottle.
Still makes me a little teary almost 11 years later.
Beautifully written!
This is a tough issue for military families to deal with. We've never had a situation where this has worked out in an optimal fashion, and there are always regrets because you want to be able to say a last good-bye, or attend funeral services, and sometimes it's just impossible.
My husband missed his grandmother's funeral, didn't get to say good-bye to his father, my grandmother or my Godfather before they died. I missed his aunt's funeral because the funeral was on the day that the movers came and one of us had to be there. On and on.
It's heart-wrenching….
Great post! This made me really think of how hard it must have been for my mother when I was born… in Japan. (my father was stationed at Misawa AB) My mother had a three year old, a ten and a half month old (kid you not) and a newborn (me). I never thought about that before, but it must have been particularly hard on both of my parents since my mother and eldest sister are also high functioning autistics… back when they didn't have a name for it. They were just considered a little 'slow' sometimes. After I finish this comment, I think I will call her to tell her I love her.
My husband also comes from a military family and had six siblings. I know my FIL missed his brother's funeral and that to this day (he's in his eighties) he still regrets that most. And speaks of it whenever his brother comes up in conversation. My BIL (who is active duty) missed seeing his mother one last time two years ago before she died, because he was incommunicado in the sandbox. THAT was REALLY tough on his whole family. I'm so glad my husband (he is full time Guard now) was home.
On a happy note though. My MIL who understood this kind of life, having lived it, flew from ME to Guam to get our eldest daughter (who was staying with another amazing Milspouse) when I went into preterm labor with our second daughter and was MEDIVAC'd to HI with my husband. My husband called his mother and within twelve hours she was on her way to pick up our daughter and THEN fly with her to HI where she stayed with us for TWO months! God, how I loved her. She was an amazing woman and I was so blessed in our family. She always had the BEST advice and suggestions, military life included, on any subject I ever talked to her about… Wish I could call her, too, just to tell her I love her. (Even though I know she already knew that)