Kristi
Is there really any other way to face a crisis as a military spouse? We all know – whether from experience or urban legend – that things do not break or get lost while our service members are home, creepy crawlies never invade the house if we have reinforcements and natural disasters never pose a threat until we are “Sitting duck, party of one.”
The legend of the deployment curse basically guarantees that some sort of crisis will rear its ugly head while you are all by your lonesome – whether it’s during a 48-hour training exercise or a 12-month deployment. So, by the time my husband’s second deployment rolled around, I was prepared…or so I thought. This time I wasn’t just dealing with a dead car battery or a kitchen full of sugar ants; instead, I got the wrath of Hurricane Irene.
Should I stay or should I go?
My deployed husband begged me to pack up and head inland. Having grown up on the Gulf Coast, I assured him that he was too far removed from the situation and that the news was making it a bigger deal than it really was. I knew how to prepare for hurricanes, and riding out the storm in the comfort of our home sounded much more appealing than battling evacuation traffic and a cramped hotel with an infant. I was watching weather and evacuation updates around the clock and talking over plans with neighbors and friends, and just a couple days before Irene made landfall, I made the call; my son and I and our two dogs were staying put.
Going it “alone”
The next 48 hours I spent preparing for the storm. I did what I knew to be important from my experience; I hauled anything that could become airborne, including a huge doghouse, storage bench, lawn furniture, trashcans, garden hoses and a grill into the garage…alone. Most of these objects were bigger than me, but never underestimate the strength of a determined woman.
The night before Irene made landfall, this stubborn woman was reminded that no one in the military community truly faces anything “alone.” As I was preparing the inside of my house for the storm by lowering the temperatures of the refrigerator and freezer, doing a few loads of laundry, pulling out some candles, flashlights, and puzzles, and making doubly sure my son had enough baby food in case we lost power, my neighbors knocked on my door. Knowing that my husband was deployed, they offered to help me do everything I’d already done before they evacuated. Even though their offer was a moot point, I finally relaxed for the first time in a week. I realized that even though I felt like I was facing Irene alone, I wasn’t. I felt so much pressure to protect our son, our dogs and our home that I was overlooking all of the support right in front of me.
The aftermath
When the storm eventually passed, the damage was obvious. I suddenly wasn’t as brave without the safety of boarded windows – that I was accustomed to during storms like this – and I remember staring out our dining room window just watching the pine trees bend to the point of breaking only to stand up straight again at the last possible second. I felt so vulnerable in our home that I abandoned my cozy bed to sleep – or, more accurately, lie awake all night – on the floor of my son’s room.
The morning after the storm, I walked the neighborhood to check on my friend since phones were dead and power was out. I saw things that took my breath away. Trees were snapped in half, uprooted and siding and shingles were missing from almost every house except for ours. We probably shouldn’t have been in one piece, but miraculously we were perfectly fine.
And the days that followed were almost worse than the mere hours of the storm. We spent days without power. It was hot, the food was spoiling, we cleaned up debris (with help, of course) and business was slowly returning to normal, but nearly the entire area was still facing a blackout. Once again, I was floored by the support of fellow military spouses. My good friend and I took turns driving around to charge our phones and enjoy brief moments of air conditioning. All around town, other military families who already had electricity restored opened their doors – and their hot showers – to other families who needed some relief from “camping” in their homes. It wasn’t until I was holding my cranky son – who was donning only a diaper at this point on account of the balmy 90-degree temperature inside our house – eating food on the brink of spoiling from the fridge for the sole purpose of not wasting it and sweating so badly my son nearly slipped off of my lap that I realized how ridiculous this situation was. If I had it to do all over again, I would’ve evacuated; I think most other families who remember that week would agree with me.
We were all alone during Irene, and because of that, strangely, we were all in it together. And that may be my favorite thing about this military life. It doesn’t matter whether we face natural disasters, dead car batteries, bats trapped in patio umbrellas, rodents in the garage, illness or even childbirth while our spouses are away; we have support ready and waiting. We are a resourceful and strong family that I am so proud to be a part of.