The Wandering Drays...United.

Fellow Foreign Service blogger, Heather, eloquently describes all her anticipation and excitement as her husband returns from a year long tour in Iraq...

"Finally. Just One Week.

I'm feeling melancholy tonight, thinking back over my husband's unaccompanied Baghdad assignment.  It's been nearly 1 1/2 years since Jason started the seemingly never-ending journey to Iraq.  Six months in D.C. for training; nearly a year in Baghdad.  And now, we have just a week. 
One teensy weensy week.  But the longest week.  Ever.  To get through.

In just one week...Jason will be home.  And I won't have to look forward to NOT looking forward to him heading back to Iraq.

Come to think about it, in just one week...

I alone won't have to bandage up boo-boos and wipe away tears when the kids fall and get hurt.  And I alone won't fail at mending broken hearts when friends hurt the kids' feelings.

There will be a real cook in the house.  One who makes meals.  That actually taste good.

Someone else will be here to carry the never-ending mountains of laundry down two flights of stairs to the basement.

I won't have to eat lunch alone in a restaurant reading a newspaper.

I won't have to walk through the house with the cell phone hoping for great reception in a room that won't dump our call into the black hole abyss of dropped calls.  Or hold my free hand over one ear while squishing the cell phone up to my other ear as tightly as possible so I can hear him better.  Because even a call that I can barely hear him is better than no call at all.

I'll be able to get mad at someone else, other than the kids, for using up all the hot water just before my shower.  Or for using my towel.  Or for forgetting to put a new roll of toilet paper in the bathroom on the dispenser.



We'll watch the kids as they catch fireflies with the sun drifting off into the horizon.  We'll both hear the baby as he tries to say new words and watch as he climbs into things he has no business climbing into.

We'll stay up late and talk about our dreams and plans.  And listen to the kids giggling upstairs as they pretend to fall asleep.

I won't go to sleep every night feeling all alone in a house full of sleeping children.



We'll be a family again.  All together, as we should be.  What a journey we've made to get back to exactly where we belong."

Thank you, Heather, for letting us share this on our blog.  

To follow Heather's blog and read more about her experiences during the UT, click here.  

"My family are the true heroes, I was just doing my job"...

All of us recognize the great contribution you and your families are making during the unaccompanied tour and the burdens and stresses this places on your children in particular.  To recognize the sacrifice that children make while their parent is serving a high-risk unaccompanied tour, our office distributes Medals and Certificates of Recognition to children age 0-21. 


Jason Banks recently returned from a one year assignment to Pakistan and ordered a Medal for his five year old son, Matthew.  Because Jason and his family are unable to attend the mid-July Washington D.C. award ceremony event, Jason thought of another creative way to honor his son:  he contacted his Mayor.  After speaking with Mayor Maher Maso of Frisco, Texas, Jason arranged for his son Matthew to be publically awarded his well-deserved medal.  Jason explained,  "I told my son it was for being so brave while I was gone and that the Secretary of State gave it to him.  I told the mayor that since we could not attend the ceremony in Washington, it would mean a lot to me, to have the Mayor present him with his award.  I personally emailed him and he responded in a couple hours saying he would love to do it and said that we should be at the city council meeting the following day."  Jason and his wife, Denise, were kind enough to share some adorable pictures of the ceremony with us to share on the blog.  We hope that this inspires UT families who have yet to request a medal for their children to do so! 

"I think the Mayor Maher Maso did a good thing...and wanted to show that the sacrifices made by the military and other federal government agencies are felt at the local level.  He went on to explain how proud he was about a Frisco resident for serving in such an austere environment and I told him that without the support of my family and a wife that was capable of “doing it all”, I never would have been able to mentally survive.  My family are the true heroes, I was just doing my job."

We hope the Medals and Certificates of Recognition will in some small way let UT children know their sacrifice is appreciated and reaffirm the proud tradition of the Foreign Service.  To request a medal for your child, please click here.  Please stay posted for details about the mid-July award ceremony at the Department.   

Thank you to Jason, Denise and Matthew Banks, Mayor Maher Maso and Kerri- UT Team's Medal specialist!

Jen's "Navigating Life's Unexpected Realities"

Jen, a UT spouse who was diagnosed with cancer during her husband’s tour to Iraq, wrote a moving article about her experience in this month’s Foreign Service Journal.  Take a moment to read her story:  Navigating Life's Unexpected Realities.  Also, follow her blog here.

Take a moment...

...to read the blog entry, "Is the Glass Half Empty or Half Full?", by Jill Perlman, author of The Perlman Update blog.  With three young children and her husband serving in Baghdad, Jill's entries document her life during the ups and downs of the unaccompanied tour.  A creative, heartfelt and honest blog well worth following...
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Today marks exactly six months to the day that Matt has been in Baghdad, Iraq.

180 days behind us. 180 days to go.

Sometimes it feels like the time has gone by so fast that I know when I blink my eyes we'll be moving into our new house in Virginia. And other times, the days drag on so slowly that I literally count the minutes until it's time to put all three kids to bed.

I've learned a lot about myself in Matt's absence. I enjoy having total clicker control and have a renewed adoration for chick flick TV. I love to sleep diagonal in the bed. I don't miss the extra laundry. It takes me about two months to go through a large tube of toothpaste, and about three months to go through one bottle of shampoo. Oh, and I'll never get white slip covers for the couches.

I also discovered when I don't get any breaks, that my patience is sadly very thin. I've managed to make-do with our simple meal preparations, but really yearn for someone to appreciate the effort I go through to get a well balanced dinner on the table. In fact, there's a huge void in our house of grandiose dinners and at-home entertaining. And as much as I can handle just about anything ... I don't always look forward to doing it alone.

That's really where the biggest challenge of our separation comes into play. Being apart from Matt is very lonely. Sure we talk every single day. Sometimes twice a day. Or four times a day when we were house hunting. We Skype as often as the girls are willing to sit still (read ... not very). We email every day. But from about 7 pm until I go to bed, I feel the void. I feel it even more when I lay down every single night in my lumpy queen sized bed. Alone.

Lest you think I'm crying in my Cabernet every night, let me reassure you that I'm not. I absolutely have my moments. Sometimes even my days. But for the most part, I feel blessed for the opportunity to rediscover myself. To reinvent the person I once was many years ago ... before kids ... before we moved overseas. I have the chance to do a lot of soul searching. Which takes time. A precious commodity that I am willing to spare.

As I reflect on these past six months, I realize that I would not be where I am without our family. Nor without the cohorts going through similar situations here and abroad, who I've been connected with via the State Department yahoo groups ... and through Facebook ... and blogging. Or without the friends, who have stuck it out while we've lived overseas, reaching out from near and far, making any effort to stay in touch ... while sometimes getting so little in return. And especially not without those who continue to help me in ways that may seem so minuscule, but are so endearing to me.

The cards, the notes, the emails, the texts, the phone calls ... they don't go unnoticed. And I appreciate them more than you'll ever know. I gush, therefore I am.

But the question still begs. As I sit here, looking forward to Matt's second R&R next week, I am able to make out a tiny little light at the end of the tunnel. Or is it much larger than I originally thought.

Is the glass half empty or is it half full?
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Below is a drawing by Jill's daughter for her father...too cute!