About a week ago Mike and I went to the furniture store to look for new living room furniture since we've had ours since before we were married and it had pieces coming off everyday. This trip was no spur of the moment thing, it was planned as with everything in our lives that involves going outside our front door. We were up early and out the door with the kids ready and had a set schedule. We were going to look at furniture and try to go to lunch at my favorite place depending on how many people were there and how Mike was able to tolerate it.
At the furniture store we were rushed upon right when we entered the door. I can imagine we looked a mess, Mike on his crutches and me pushing the double stroller while trying to stop the kids from hitting each other. Still the guy felt it was necessary to follow us around the store and ask a million questions. I tried to get him to back off but he was persistent and I just began to ignore him. We had been in the store for about 20 minutes and Mike was signaling to me that it was time to go. I was disappointed because I wanted to actually purchase the couches that day but whatever. We left the store after the guy nearly walked us to the car. Then Mike began to drive past the restaurant and although I was tempted to say something, I didn't. I was not sure if he forgot that we were planning on going (tbi) or if he was mad or if he was in pain. To be honest, I did not care. As selfish as it may be that day I was mad at him. As we drove down 9A I was so angry with him I started crying. Why couldn't he walk? Why every time we plan to go out for a family day does it have to end this way? Maybe I should have gone alone with the kids as I do every other errand....I cried all the way home and we did not talk for the rest of the day...
When I went to the Hilton Head retreat with Operation Homefront Wounded Warrior Wives I was not sure what I expected yet I still went. The thing that stuck with me was hearing everyone talking about acceptance. I felt so lost. What is acceptance? Am I supposed to accept his injury? Accept that I lost parts of my husband to the war? Accept what? I honestly felt like I had accepted everything. Here we are nearly five years later and we are still living, that is acceptance right?
...That night after our failed day out as I laid in bed, I began to think of how hateful I am. What kind of woman is mad at her husband because he cannot walk and is in physical pain? What kind of person gets mad at someone for something that they cannot control? Clearly I do not have this acceptance thing down pat like I thought I did. I love my husband. I suppose I need to learn what acceptance means in our specific case.