Parallel Service

The Holmes and Rahe stress scale is a list of 43 stressful life events that can contribute to illness. Each stressful event corresponds with a numerical life change unit (LCU) . The LCUs of a year's events are added together for an idea of how likely the test taker is to become ill due to their stress level. The greater the number, the more stress, the increase in illness.

I often reflect on our time as a military family. It was only 2.5 years ago. Dan's decision to leave the Air Force changed most everything about my life-- my health care, volunteer opportunities, school decisions, housing, grocery shopping. The odd thing is, Dan still works at DLI-- his last duty station. What shocked me most, however, wasn't seeing a specialist without prior approval. It was the stability in our life, in our family.

No longer do I wonder where we'll be living in two years. I don't wonder what job Dan will have or if we'll be separated. I know the girls can stay at MBCS for years. Speech and OT needs are being met by wonderful caring persons. I can paint the walls of my house any color I want. Dan knew this stability is what certain family members needed way before I did. After enjoying this stability most non-military persons experience, I marvel at the constant stress we lived under. We didn't even know it.

I took the stress test myself. (Try it here.)

My stress on the LCUs total 182. We moved, acquired a mortgage, got a medical diagnosis, changed our eating habits, got a speeding ticket and survived Christmas.

The typical military family could, in one year: move to a new duty station in February and the military parent deploys in September. The LCUs for this very, very common scenario: 364. This assumes the children in the family are all healthy and don't react poorly to the changes, no babies are born, no one gets sick, there is a vacation on the way to the new duty station and neither spouse is taking college classes.

This personal essay was written several years ago, while we were still a military family, experiencing 300+ LCUs a year. I will always be grateful for the friends, military and civilian, I made during those years. They taught me about friendship, love and sacrifice. This is for the Mandys, Hollis, Burgandys, Toris, Rebeccas and Michelles of the world. The friendships that endure separation, arguments and bowls of soup.

Parallel Service

“On this day in which the war with Iraq begins,

the confluence of events, lives, symbols

gather steam. There is a sense that we are

charging forward—but toward what?

Karen Houppert,,Home Fires Burning:

Married to the Military

—For Better or Worse

My friends and I served one another. We brought dinners when the day was bad, provided a soapbox, babysat for date and doctor appointments, drove each other to the airport, bought extra milk from the store, fed the dog fish cat or turtle and once I bought Heather’s WIC formula and mailed it to her because she couldn’t use the vouchers from Lakenheath in Salt Lake.

Heather and I walked everywhere together. I’d walk to the PX with her even when I didn’t need to just to give her company. She walked with me to Tennyson’s preschool, but never in the morning because Heather couldn’t get up and ready that early. When we needed to go somewhere and we couldn’t get there by foot, like Bury St. Edmunds or to the playgroup on Mildenhall, we jammed three car seats into the back of a car and went together. Mostly Heather and I just listened to one another. She listened to me describe apraxia and the workings of the inner ear almost every week. I listened to her talk about her mother who was slowly losing her memory and didn’t remember visiting England or falling asleep on my bed New Year’s Eve.

The only thing Heather and I didn’t talk about was what our husbands did for a living. I never mentioned that, although Dan never set foot on Kosovo’s soil, he participated in the bombings of buildings and lives. Heather never mentioned that Calvin probably loaded the bombs that fell over Iraq. Juliet’s husband, Alex, led the F-16 fighter planes into Iraq. But I didn’t ask what happened to the bombs Calvin loaded when Alex flew over Baghdad.

Caren’s husband, Josh, heard Arabic while in an airplane. He probably told Alex where to put those bombs. Amy’s husband, Martin, worked on the computers Dan, Alex and Josh depended on. He didn’t ruin any lives, except his own when he slept with a coworker in Greece. Amy left him. I babysat while Heather drove her to the airport.