When tomorrow comes

When tomorrow comes
by Chaplain Kathie
Wounded Times Blog
August 5, 2012

There are some things I'll never know.

I don't know what it is like to go to sleep every night worried about where your husband is as you look at the empty side of the bed. Or what it is like to get the feeling the pit of your stomach while you're watching your kid's play that he's going through something terrible. I don't know what it is like to be young, wondering if you can stand to be alone while he's deployed or if this is the last time you are willing to do it.

I don't know because I am not young anymore. My daughter is about the age I was when war became a part of my life even though the man I fell in love with had been home from Vietnam for over ten years.

By the time I figured out that his past was a part of him, it was too late. I loved him too much to walk away without a fight. There were times I was sure he loved me. There were times when I didn't think he did. Times when I was sure if I loved him enough, I could make all his pain go away and he'd be happy. But other times I was sure I just couldn't find the right way to reach him.

Marilyn McCoo sang the words I was feeling in If I Could Reach You

But if I could reach you some way

if I knew the magic it would take to love you good enough on the outside and make you feel it on the inside maybe I could make you stay

I decided to fight. To learn as much as I could about what had such a hold on him. That's when I discovered the other part of Vietnam no one talked about. The battle afterwards.

What can you learn from someone old enough to be your Mom? You can know what to expect when tomorrow comes and you are where I was 30 years ago.

You can't love it away. You can love him enough to learn how to help him.

You can't just wait for him to get over it the way he did before. It will get worse and the strain on your relationship will make it harder to stay. You'll blame him, then you'll blame yourself but your kids will keep thinking it is all their fault.

Here's one of the first videos I made to help families understand what Combat PTSD is and what they can do about it. The first thing to ask yourself is, what made you fall in love with them in the first place. The second thing is to understand everything you loved about them is still there. You can help them find themselves again.

We've made it through the worst times and I knew I "found the magic it would take" to make him feel loved when we went food shopping one day, he took my hand. He looked like a man at peace with himself. He thanked me.

The Sound Of Silence
Simon and Garfunkel

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools", said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls"
And whispered in the sounds of silence

The Boxer Lyrics
Simon And Garfunkel
I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lie la lie ...
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Lie la lie ...
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me
Bleeding me, going home

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that layed him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

There are more songs on this video to help you feel the words used. May it help you to understand what you can do today when tomorrow comes and you know he won't get over it without help.

Point Man of Winter Park is a 501c3