It’s Memorial Day and this morning I shed tears while taps played at Arlington. Taps always brings tears but this morning I wasn’t so much crying for those who’ve fallen. I don’t think they would want tears. I was crying over a sudden realization. I’m so lucky. I’m not rich, I don’t drive an expensive car or have all the material things that outwardly indicate success. I do however have my freedom. I also have my soldier.
For all the issues he has left over from the time he spent in the combat zone, I have him. I can touch him every day and do all the simple things I take for granted. My soldier answered the call without thought of his own safety. He put himself in harm’s way, risked his life for me and my fellow countrymen, and he came home alive. War beaten, but very much alive.
Despite all the sorrows I perceive in my life I know, especially this day, how blessed I am. I am free. I can vote, I can leave my house without fear, I can work and play and live because I am free.
And I am free because of those whom this day is about. They gave their lives for me. I’m so lucky, so lucky there are brave men and women who every day answer the call of their country without thought of their own life. They walk a narrow path I don’t think I could traverse.
So this morning I thought not only of how lucky I am, but I thought of the families who only have a picture to remember their loved ones by. Past and present, they are not forgotten. The sacrifice will always be remembered and always be genuinely appreciated. Thank you from the very corners of my soul. Thank you so much.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Home Invasion
I’m so desperately tired. It has been an incredibly difficult couple of months and with impeccable timing and infinite wisdom the VA has decided it’s time for another home visit. The letter came with attached paperwork to fill out, paperwork which I found to be inappropriate.
But let’s go over some history before I get into that whole mess. This is not the first time the VA has sent a field inspector out to pry into our personal business. When my husband and I were not married and I was simply a girlfriend/fiduciary I understood. He needed to be protected. They didn’t know me, didn’t know if I was in it for the money.
Wait though, I have to stop there and laugh. And I mean really laugh so hard my butt could literally fall off. Just in case anyone from the VA is reading this, there is no amount of money in this world that could entice me to live with, let alone care for, a PTSD sufferer whom I did not love with every ounce of my being. He is my best day and that’s why I’m here. Good, we cleared that up.
The instructions when I became fiduciary were let’s say vague at best. In fact, they were a post-it note attached to the letter telling me I was accepted at his fiduciary that said “Oh you do have to keep account of the money”.
Well a year later that accounting that was explained in a post-it was extremely complicated. Hope they’ve changed that up since I signed on for the job several years ago. Fast forward past the rejected accountings, the nasty-grams and threats, to Chris and I being a somewhat normal married couple. The field inspector came last year, this would be the third time they’ve been in my home, to confirm we were married and change my status to spouse payee. Please take into consideration that our third wedding anniversary is this year. We’d married a year and a half by the time they made it out. But okay, whatever. They have to check, I understand. I handed over our bank records, let him look where ever he wanted in the house – yes, they like to look in your closet to make sure you’re buying your veteran clothing, fun stuff. It was degrading and unbelievably stressful for my husband.
Jump forward to not too long ago when I get the newest letter from the VA fiduciary hub. Attached were three pages to fill out. On the first page they asked the “nature” of my husband’s disability. Well that tore it, along with their timing – Chris’ father died in November, my mother died in March – I wasn’t very cooperative in what I wrote back to them. I’m tired. I’m tired of their intrusion into our lives. My husband is not a charity case. His benefits were earned from what he permanently sacrificed and if he wants to stick the money in a rat hole that’s his business and not theirs. It’s bad enough he’s lost so many freedoms, but to have some stranger demand access our bank records, his medical condition, and our home is too much.
I hate that I’m gearing up for a fight. I have letters prepared ready to hit the inboxes of congress if I have any issues. I’ve had enough of this intrusion. I’m tired. Every day my goal is keep my husband’s stress level to a tolerable level. They made me his custodian. They gave me the job of protecting him and caring for him. Now they are the problem.
How sad that I have to protect him from the very people the American public has trusted to take care of her veterans.
But let’s go over some history before I get into that whole mess. This is not the first time the VA has sent a field inspector out to pry into our personal business. When my husband and I were not married and I was simply a girlfriend/fiduciary I understood. He needed to be protected. They didn’t know me, didn’t know if I was in it for the money.
Wait though, I have to stop there and laugh. And I mean really laugh so hard my butt could literally fall off. Just in case anyone from the VA is reading this, there is no amount of money in this world that could entice me to live with, let alone care for, a PTSD sufferer whom I did not love with every ounce of my being. He is my best day and that’s why I’m here. Good, we cleared that up.
The instructions when I became fiduciary were let’s say vague at best. In fact, they were a post-it note attached to the letter telling me I was accepted at his fiduciary that said “Oh you do have to keep account of the money”.
Well a year later that accounting that was explained in a post-it was extremely complicated. Hope they’ve changed that up since I signed on for the job several years ago. Fast forward past the rejected accountings, the nasty-grams and threats, to Chris and I being a somewhat normal married couple. The field inspector came last year, this would be the third time they’ve been in my home, to confirm we were married and change my status to spouse payee. Please take into consideration that our third wedding anniversary is this year. We’d married a year and a half by the time they made it out. But okay, whatever. They have to check, I understand. I handed over our bank records, let him look where ever he wanted in the house – yes, they like to look in your closet to make sure you’re buying your veteran clothing, fun stuff. It was degrading and unbelievably stressful for my husband.
Jump forward to not too long ago when I get the newest letter from the VA fiduciary hub. Attached were three pages to fill out. On the first page they asked the “nature” of my husband’s disability. Well that tore it, along with their timing – Chris’ father died in November, my mother died in March – I wasn’t very cooperative in what I wrote back to them. I’m tired. I’m tired of their intrusion into our lives. My husband is not a charity case. His benefits were earned from what he permanently sacrificed and if he wants to stick the money in a rat hole that’s his business and not theirs. It’s bad enough he’s lost so many freedoms, but to have some stranger demand access our bank records, his medical condition, and our home is too much.
I hate that I’m gearing up for a fight. I have letters prepared ready to hit the inboxes of congress if I have any issues. I’ve had enough of this intrusion. I’m tired. Every day my goal is keep my husband’s stress level to a tolerable level. They made me his custodian. They gave me the job of protecting him and caring for him. Now they are the problem.
How sad that I have to protect him from the very people the American public has trusted to take care of her veterans.
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