PART 8… Home Alone
The operative word for me was survival: control the grief, fear and sadness as best I could. I settled into a life of biding my time, trying to avoid the pitfalls of the grief I carried. I remembered how much harder it must be for Boyd, living in harm’s way.
I attempted to develop a lifestyle that would keep me from socializing with my friends with their families, a painful reminder that I had none. One night I went to a gathering of friends and someone brought a baby.
I couldn’t stand it. I left.
I worked second shift in a nursing home to avoid evenings home alone. I would get home from work at midnight and read late into the night so I could sleep until noon and then go back to work.’
At my mother’s we converted the tv room for me. I was able to have my own television and a little spot to sit and watch it, trying to make it feel less like a bedroom. It was my escape spot when the fear and grief overtook me and I needed to be alone.
My mother and I got along well. Each of us extended extra grace during this precarious time. My aunt and grandfather lived next door. I enjoyed my family. Even though we were a family that didn’t openly share emotions, they understood my pain. In our small farming community, I knew pretty much everyone and they knew me. Most people were kind, regardless of what they might believe about the rightness or wrongness of the war. They understood the burden of having someone serving in Vietnam.
Boyd and I kept connected through letters and cassette tapes. I rented a post office box so I could get letters on Sundays. Our audio tapes meant we could hear each other's voices. On Christmas night I sat on the floor recounting my holiday, dreaming of next year when we would be together.
I made a chocolate cake and packed it in popcorn and sent it to him. When he opened the box he wondered why I would send a box of popcorn until he found the chocolate cake at the bottom. I put a packet of Kool-Aid in every letter as I was told the drinking water tasted awful. He got too much Kool-Aid and told me not to send it!
Slowly I built a routine as I waited for the year to go by.