This Veterans Day

Growing up the only veteran I really knew (or at least knew well) was my grandpa. I knew that he had fought in WWII, received a purple heart and some other medals, and was lucky enough to come back home to live a full life with our family. He never really talked about the war, partly because of how young we were but also because it was something you didn't really talk about.

My grandpa, Wayne Richard Matteson: WWII Army Veteran

He was my only connection to the military and what it meant to serve our county, and I remember the concept of Veterans Day feeling almost foreign--something that I knew I should respect and honor, but something that I deep down knew that I didn't really understand even with a close family member who had served.

This year as I scroll through my Facebook newsfeed I am flooded by the images of friends and family members who have served in our military or who are still serving today--and to be honest, it's almost overwhelming. Overwhelming in that I never thought I would be embedded in the military community like we are now.

There are so many people that we care about who put themselves into harm's way on a daily basis. Who sacrifice time with their loved ones. Who move half-way around the world to take care of others and their families, all while missing their own. Who deploy to dangerous areas. Who come back changed, or don't get to come back at all.

And strangely enough, sometimes it still feels unreal. When you hang out with all of these friends out of uniform it's easy to forget for a second that they are the men and women who serve our country--not because you actually forget*, but because these are real people who have selflessly chosen to serve. They are friends, and brothers and sisters, children and classmates, who chose to defend our country in a variety of ways. And often they just blend into our midst.

Would you know that almost every person in this photo is actively serving our country if I didn't tell you?
There are about 20 of them pictured here.

And that's just it. That's why Veterans Day is so important. Because of the real people in our midst who serve our country and sacrifice daily for the common good. They might not talk about their experiences, especially if they are dealing with wounds internally or externally, but they have given more than many of us can fathom.

And with that said, there's so much more we should be doing to take care of our veterans besides saying, "Thank you for your service." I don't think I can succinctly address it without going off on a bunch of different tangents, but please consider going beyond the holiday. Words of thanks are nice (and saying them in recognition is a good thing!), but many of our service men and women have had difficulty transitioning back into daily life after serving overseas. They need support more than once or twice a year. They need more than a standing recognition at sporting events. Take the time to get to know a veteran, learn about what they have gone through, help support veteran's affairs with your time and your voting, encourage your company to hire veterans. CNN posted some great suggestions here about ways to honor veterans beyond Veterans Day if you have a chance to check it out.

I am extremely proud of my husband, and of all of our friends and family who have served our country. I am thankful for their bravery, their selflessness, and their service. And I hope that we can continue to support all of our veterans in the ways that each of them may need.

*Trust me, you definitely don't forget it when it is a part of your daily life, so please do not take this statement out of context. 

There's Comfort in Knowing

When we arrived in San Diego in 2012 we knew that we would be here somewhere between 1 to 4 years--no shorter, no longer. Navy medicine doesn't really make it so that you can stay at a teaching hospital immediately following residency training, so we knew we wouldn't be staying longer than that. But that window was pretty vague in and of itself. How do you mentally manage an unknown, limited time frame that is completely out of your control?

About halfway through the first year we found out that we were staying put for a little while, which allowed the uncertainty of Navy life to take a back-burner spot while we just lived and enjoyed our time here. We knew we would probably be here for just three years, the time it would take Brian to complete his residency, but there was a small possibility for a one year extension if he were to become the chief resident.

While that all sounds great, that extension possibility leads to a lot of questions and some general frustration. Is it worth applying for that job if we have to leave in June? Can we plan this summer trip with friends or will we potentially be out of the country? Do we need to really start tackling our San Diego bucket list now or do we have a little more time to check off those boxes? I try to have a carpe diem-like attitude when opportunities come up, but there is an element of planning and sometimes a sense of urgency (or lack thereof) that comes with being more certain about the near future.

Well, for better or for worse, the wait for those answers is finally over--our time in San Diego will be ending at the completion of this residency year in June of 2015, destination still to-be-determined.

Of course we're both a little sad. We've grown to love it here (I mean, who doesn't?) and have made some fantastic friends that will make it very hard to leave. But on the other hand, it is so nice... so comforting... to know when our general "expiration date" is here. It's akin to the "live like you are dying" mantra, but obviously not nearly as intense. It motivates me to do the SD area bucket list items while we can (like the weekend trip to Vegas we haven't taken yet, the sailing or surfing lessons, the road trip to Julian, the Temecula wine tours... all the things!), and it finally allows me to plan some things out.

We still don't know where they will send Brian, and consequentially me as well, next (we do luckily come as a packaged deal for the most part since he's in pediatrics). But strangely enough, that doesn't bother me in the slightest. I know it won't be here. It won't be DC or Portsmouth either. It could be as far away as Japan or Guam, or as close as Camp Pendelton--but it won't be here.

I guess that's where the flexibility has to come in. I could spend my time stressing out about where we are going to go next--which, let's be real, won't do anyone one lick of good--or I can just accept the fact that it won't be here and enjoy the time we have left accordingly.

My good friend Heather once told me she didn't think she could do it--the not knowing all the time. Sometimes I wonder how we do it, too.... but I think it boils down to embracing the things we do know, and letting the rest just happen. We know that wherever we'll be, we'll be there together. We know that wherever we end up, it's only for a short time in the grand scheme of things. We know that wherever we are, we have a network of amazing people in our lives that will help support us along the way. And now we know when we'll be starting our newest adventure.

There's comfort in knowing.