Fight Like Hell

On my drive home Friday night (before the bad news), I called his sister like I typically do on my long drives and we chatted for a good hour.

She and her boyfriend hit a rough patch in their relationship. They reached their one year anniversary last week. And she does what I use to do way back in my 15, 16 year old days with my love. I stubbornly sat on the other side of the phone refusing to call him. Have I ever mentioned our first year together was something out of a bad teen relationship movie?

Our relationship improved mostly because I refused to give up. Yes, I will take a lot of credit and most days he even agrees. I told his sister on the phone, "This advice might shock you and I am sure your other girlfriends might not be telling you this, but you have to call him, so what if you call him more than he calls you, big deal. If its what you want, fight like hell".

Fight back.

Moving on to his mother. Well way back almost 9 years ago, we butted heads on our first meeting together and over the years, it happened a lot more. I would never dare say I hated her, but we really didn't get along.

That is until I started voicing my opinion. Through this deployment we talk almost everyday like best friends. She took me out to breakfast on Sunday and we discussed many things. The topic of Army came up and we disagreed on something. She said something bluntly and voiced her opinion. And back in the day I would curl up into a ball and let her comments eat at me. I snapped back and spoke my opinion. I did not back down.

And when I walked into my house yesterday, I received the sweetest email from her saying she is so proud of me and loves being a part of my life. I think she respects and truly loves the fighter in me.

Fight back.

Now his grandfather. Diagnosed with cancer last July. I, unfortunately did not worry for a minute. It is his grandfather! I mean this 80 year old lifts at the gym, hunts, walks, goes to Church every Sunday.

So when I found out last week his cancer doubled in size. I suddenly wished I prayed a little harder for him over the last year. When I visited him this weekend, I did not see a 80 year old with terminal cancer, I actually saw his grandfather, one of the toughest old men I've ever met. He looked surprisingly healthy and God, you better know he is not going down without a fight. Grandpa keep...

Fighting back.

Now my events through the past two weeks might not get some people down, but I definitely hit a very low point. I cannot explain what I felt happening to my body, to my emotions, to my mental state. Where did my spunk go? I spend a lot of my time and days concentrating on the positive. I am without a doubt an optimistic. On Saturday, I honestly wanted to give up...to cry, to lock myself in my room until his mid tour. On my drive Sunday I continued to tell myself...

Fight back.

And Daisy. Tomorrow is judgement day. His wonderful mother and my wonderful mother will be taking her to a specialist together. She is my pistol, my ball of energy and humor, and I do not even need to tell her...

Fight back.

Because I know my dog will fight like hell.

Today, after three weeks, I received my first, new account at work. The love of my life surprised me with a plane ticket to Tampa Bay so I do not have to spend 24 hours in the car this weekend. And last night I slept for a continuous 7 hours for the first time in 10 nights.

And even though I truly believe Daisy will be OK, if you could, send a few prayers or good luck thoughts her way, I know we both will appreciate them.