Reflections

I stand in the backyard,staring, watching in silence as the soldiers across the way gently hoist Old Glory to half mast.The bugle plays, the sound of the flag cracking the silence in the cool autumn air.My four year old walks outside and holds my hand,her tiny fingers curl around mine.I listen.It's Saturday morning..and there is no noise to be heard. A hushed silence has fallen over the base.I hear no cars, no people walking their dogs,no children playing.No cadence is called this morning.It may be a Saturday, but no cadence would be called even if it was Monday.My daughter asks me in a whisper,"Mommy,why are you outside?" I looked at her,the most beautiful precious thing I have and I smile a gentle smile so she doesn't worry. "I'm reflecting." She stares at me for a moment with a quizzical expression, eyebrows cocked,lip slightly curled."Like in a mirror,where you see your face?" "Kinda" I reply.
What she doesn't realize is in a way, I am looking into a mirror.One that takes me back in time, to another early autumn morning.I see myself sitting in class. Mr.Blaine's Western Civ class.I was suppose to be taking a quiz I had missed earlier in the week.There were four of us.We had all heard on the radio about the first plane.As we sat down at the desks,pencil in hand, we heard the distinct sound of a remote control clicking the television on.I looked back, waiting for the go ahead to watch the TV in the front of the room.He nodded his head and took a seat next to us.We all watched the reporter, transfixed on what seemed to be a dream.Smoke and ash filled the screen,people calling out,crying for loved ones.We saw it.We watched in horror as in the background of the live report a plane drew closer and closer to the building.For a second we thought this must be a replay of the earlier plane.People began running,and screaming,silence and fear washed over the room.I knew then,that nothing would ever be the same again.
I turned around to see my daughter asleep peacefully on the couch,safe,unaware of the world around her,tears filled the corners of my eyes, knowing how much that day 9 years ago changed my life.You see,I haven't forgotten.My family hasn't forgotten.The world, well in a lot of ways,they have all forgotten. I load my homepage. The news.I was expecting more.Really, I was.Nothing on the front page had anything to do with the day those towers fell, nothing to do with the soldiers who fight for our freedom still to this day because of it.Tiny video blurbs grace the bottom of the page, all about "remembrance." What are you remembering? What are they remembering? One day out of the year, people walk around saying "Remember when...."and they forget to "remember NOW." Every day I wake up to the sound of a bugle playing and the colors being raised.Platoons of soldiers,run in unison,step by step, singing cadence calls.I kiss my husband goodbye as he goes to join them.While he is gone I place the patches on his uniform, and pin his aviation wings above the name tape on his jacket that says "U.S Army." No, I can't just remember when,when I live in a world that remembers now.I know how frightening it is to go through pregnancy with your first child, alone,because of training.How raising her by yourself for the first six months feels,because training for war, took him from his family.How two weeks of R and R couldn't possibly make up for the almost 17 months spent in Iraq during the surge,or the 11 months of daily fear that just passed.As a military family,you remember.It effects you every day,in every fiber of your existence.That being said,I wouldn't have it any other way.This is my life.The effects of September 11th 2001 can't really be felt on a daily basis for people who aren't apart of it still.When you wake up, you get ready for work, drive your nice car,go to lunch,go to school...whatever it is that you do, you do it, without thinking.There's a safety net.My husband, my family, is one of many who help put it there.While you sit at your desk drinking your tall Starbucks macchiato, complaining about being late because of traffic, a soldier patrols the streets of Baghdad.As you drive safely down your city street,a soldier mourns for the brother he just lost when his convoy was hit by a roadside bomb.You complain about being tired,about how your sick child kept you up all night, while a soldier watches the birth of his first born on web cam,staying up all night with the wife he loves, even though he's already been up for days.As you sit comfortably on your couch watching the latest celebrity gossip crisis that graces our society,a woman cries.Alone in an empty bed, in an empty house,praying that he comes home to her.People burn books,hold protests,and hate this country.People just don't give a shit anymore.They don't remember,as much as you may say you do.The ones who really remember,are the ones who mourn the flag draped casket.Whose tears fall endlessly, silently weeping.The sound of the 21 gun salute,a forever echo in their ears.I'm sure those left behind have all asked the question "Why?" I'm inclined to ask the same.Looking at this world. Looking at the people in it. Look at how they spit on this country and rub dirt deeper and deeper into those red white and blue threads.People have lost sight of what is really important.I am thankful for being in the suck, for knowing I could never lose sight of what it means to be an American.I live walk and breathe amongst the bravest of heros'. I remember.My family is one of many who remember.On a daily basis, we know our world could be turned upside down, yet here we are.Doing what most aren't willing to.It's a simple question you must ask yourself.Put into perspective your life, every day.If we could all ask ourselves this one thing,our world could change.So as you sit down to enjoy your morning cup of coffee, or drive our safe city streets,or hold your newborn child in your arms for the first time, ask yourself this "Have I forgotten?"

With just a dash....

The boys have a nickname for me. When I refer to the boys, I mean the soldiers in my husbands unit. The ones that have become more like family than friends. The ones who even if my husband is away, will come to replace the battery in my truck without a second thought, just because I asked them to. The ones that are always welcome at my home, and know that I will feed them and give them a place to sleep if they needed it. The ones who I trust to save my husbands life,as I know he would do the same for them. The ones who all have "uncle" in front of their names. Those boys. My other fly boys. They have a name for me. It was a nickname given to me from the last deployment as a joke, but it became a term of endearment. You see DH always calls me pet names. We have always called each other pet names. In fact, he knows how much it drives me crazy when he calls me by my actual name. He does it on purpose just to get a rise out of me. So along with all of his sweet nothings, like baby,my love,sweetheart,love of my life, you know THOSE ones that every time the words float off of his lips it's like a thousand butterflies took flight in my heart (yes, even after all these years, he still does it to me) the boys decided to come up with their own name for me. They decided on Cornbread. When they came home and started calling me that, well, I was not impressed. I thought they could have done better. I mean, if you're going to call me a food that is endearing, and American, call me apple pie or something! Alas, no, Cornbread stuck. I did ask them one time why they called me that. They told me it was because they like me, I was sweet, just like cornbread,and they loved cornbread. I guess in the male world that was suppose to be a good thing, a compliment of sorts. The old adage is you get to a mans heart through his stomach. I think I am living proof of that.
I started thinking about that today.Cornbread is a very American, and southern might I add (since I am from Oklahoma) food. It has long been the mainstay of many meals. Often stretching a meal for mere pennies in order to fill everyone up that sat around the table.It's always welcome at any table. At a potluck, a picnic,a home cooked dinner. Next to chili,and dumplings,and steak, even milk. Yes, cornbread has always been a welcome addition. It's warm, and sweet, and I don't think I know anyone who doesn't like cornbread. The settlers used to cook cornbread in cast iron skillets over open flame on the Oregon trail. Some days it was all they had to eat. In a weird way, I kinda like being called that, even if it is unconventional.It epitomizes everything I try to be. Everything I strive to be,things that may only matter to me. It's sweet,warm,makes you feel good,is versatile and functional in all aspects,likable,economical,yet resilient. It can be made into pie crusts,corn bread,johnny cakes,added to cookies,even muffins. It is a box or bag of many different colors. Just like me.I wear many hats as an Army wife. Some are better than others, but regardless the mission is completed.Even alone, cornbread can make a bad day better,and make you feel full. My life is full. Full of so many wonderful things, and wonderful people. I could not ask for better boys than my fly boys. I could not ask for a more loving,devoted,caring,perfect husband.I could not ask for a more amazing life than what he has given me. No we aren't rich according to my bank account, and we can't have a life full of the grand material possessions, but I have them. DH and DD. The two people in the world that make my life complete. Without either one of them I would be lost.. Some days I wake up, and have to remind myself why my husband has to be away from his family again. We are part of a bigger picture. One that we are proud to be part of.My husband is an amazing man,and the telephone can never take place of his smile,but hearing his voice can make a dark day bright again.I love him more every day for loving me,despite my imperfections.
No, I may not be something exotic, and full of different spices, and I may not be something as lavish as a an apple pie, but those things leave you empty at the end of the day. I am just Cornbread.With a little pinch of something, I can be anything I need to be,anything you want me to be, right then and there. Ultimately when the light outside begins to fade and the kitchen starts shutting down, I'm still me. I come from the same blue box that I started in, regardless of what I was able to become that day. Thankfully, my husband has always been a sucker for Jiffy.

Reality Check? NNNAAAHHH

I'm tired. Not sure exactly why, except of course for a very long plane ride and a dynamic change of routine and time zone. I am glad to be back temporarily in the land of gas in the $2 range again. Although as much as I was glad to see those mountains, and breathe the dry air again, I realized today when I went grocery shopping, how completely, totally, without a doubt, out of place I am. Walking into the WalMart I exclaimed to DD that she wasn't allowed to sit in the back of the cart, or the MP's(military police) might come arrest her... people around me were staring awkwardly my direction. It dawned on me then, that there wasn't a MP around for miles and miles and miles, nor did any of the people around me have any idea what I was talking about. How eagerly I strolled the aisles of the Super wally-world, commenting about prices, giddy with excitement over things I hadn't been able to eat in years, and while checking out, had to stop myself, when I reached back to my wallet to hand the bagger a tip. I don't think that is acceptable in normal society. I don't know any more if I am acceptable in normal society. Entering the airport terminal, carrying an ACU assault pack, full of snacks and toys, didn't seem that odd in a place where so many military members travel all the time.Landing was a different story. I bounced along toting my carry-on, not realizing for a few minutes that what the people were staring at around us...was, well....US. Me with DH's assault pack, DD wearing her dog tags and her MY Daddy MY Hero shirt she had to change in to on the plane, we looked like foreigners from a different land.... I was being stared at as if I was running naked through the airport exclaiming that my hair was on fire. We were the epitome of a slightly odd mixture of the classic US Army "Ready" Pin-up and a Norman Rockwell painting. I was the apple pie.
A military base is routinely called "the fish bowl." It has good meaning behind it. We live, work,play, laugh,and cry all in the same place. With all of the same people. We live so close together, I swear I can taste my neighbors cooking through the paper thin walls. There is some good in this. As odd as it seems to people on the outside of the fish bowl, there's comfort in common waters. Just like a school of fish, if a shark comes a knockin... well ,we band together and kick the shit out of it! It's just more evidence of the two completely different worlds.It can be tough at times to retain an individual identity, when everyone around you can seem so uniform (get it?uniform? LOL..I'm lame, I know) Especially when you are automatically judged as a military wife, for BEING a military wife. There are a number of pre-fabricated categories as a mil spouse that you are automatically chucked into within the first few months of arriving to a new duty station. Those are the categories other Army wives put you into. That doesn't even include the civilians.I'll talk about those categories again later on in a different blog. Let's just say, I have foiled a number of Army Wifey formalities in my term as a military spouse, ones that include almost getting into a fist fight with a drunk pilots wife, in front of the commander, who happened to be laughing, then winked at me and said "I think you could take her." I have had my blunders and faux paux's as a military wife, and I am sure they will continue as long as we are in.
Through all of this, even the fact that I feel like an alien from outer space , it's strangely calming to be here. Well, ok, inside the house at least. Outside of the house...well I am a bit lost. I keep looking for a twenty-four hour shopette.... they got those things here, but did you know they call them 7-11's???? I know! WIERD! That's what I said! Tomorrow I will awaken to a beautiful desert sunrise,wish for the Hawaiian sun,and dream about the snow on Mt.Rainer........ How very eclectic. Ah, well, until then, I will remain the odd ball out when I leave the house. Tomorrow I attempt to go to the gym...by myself. LOL..... I am a fish out of the fishbowl...lets see if I can stumble my way around land for a few days!

Byodo-In, Valley of the Temples

My apalogies!

I know I know. I am a slacker. No excuse for not writing in my blog for the last week or so. I will throw out a lame pity attempt by stating that my life for the last week or so has been a bit crazy. Between family members in the hospital, DH, DD,and just a lot of things going on, well I have to apologize for my lack of "conversation". I do realize that besides Facebook, my blog is the only way other people keep in touch with my family, seeing as Hawaii tends to be too far away to paddle-boat out to visit. Telephones are not my strong point either. Well, I should say returning calls are not a skill I have perfected yet. My cell phone is attached to me at all times, it's just that if the phone call is not from an overseas caller, well, you get the idea. I am getting antsy. It's getting closer to the "day" DH finally gets to come home again! I feel like I never slow down, which is a good thing, because time goes by faster, but at the same time I never feel like there are enough hours in the day to accomplish every thing I have to. I try not to put things off, but I do have to allow myself some "me" time. Even if that "me" time is spent freaking myself out by watching Criminal Minds late at night, and then being paranoid that some dude is going to some how make his way onto base, manage to get past my "guard" dogs, without the neighbors noticing, and that I will be forced to use my baseball bat and Turbo Kick box techniques on him. :P In my head, I actually think that plan will work, which is the sad part.LOL
My last few weekends have been jam packed, and am planning on jam packing the rest of my weekends before DH gets home as well. Not to mention, I seriously need to step up my game on Band Hero, other wise I am going to be embarrassed royally when the guys finally come home. I feel some what nervous about the re-deployment (that's green speak for "when they come home"). Not because of DH coming home at all, but because this deployment has been so different, that even the re-deployment process has changed dramatically. In my head I expected it to go one way, and it's not the way I expected it. Oh, I am more than THRILLED with the way all of it is going, just trying to re-focus and re-adjust to the changes. I should be well aware now, that nothing in the Army ever stays the same, except the notion of "hurry up and wait." I've also decided that in June I will be entering the 15K run/walk. That is 9.3 miles. Not too bad. I think I can handle it, or at least I am going to try to. Right now I do about 4.5-5.5 miles per day, so it is almost double what I normally do. I'm going to try and start slowly increasing my distance per day, push myself just a little bit harder, and hopefully by June I will have it down. I don't care if I even place at all. I just want to finish. I will post pictures, it will be an awesome experience, and I am very excited about it. OK, so normal people don't usually get excited about that kind of thing, but I am definitely NOT normal. Speaking of exercise, today I attempted to put on a pair of tight fitting capri jeans, which are now too big for me in the waist, but the oddest thing happened. I couldn't get them over my calves. I guess I have gained so much muscle since the last time I wore them (which was quite some time ago) that, when I attempted to sit down in them or even put my shoes on, I felt as though I was losing brain cells from lack of blood supply! I've gained 4 lbs since March, the last time I weighed myself. I can only hope it was all muscle and went straight to my calves! I have no idea where else it could have went!!! Still awaiting orders to know if we stay or if we go. I hate feeling like I am in limbo. It's hard for me to not want to start chucking things out of my house and touch up painting my walls, just so I am ahead of the game should we PCS. I just want every thing to be started by the time DH gets home if we do come down on orders to move. I promise my fans (all 2 of you,lol) that I will attempt to blog every day again or at least make it a 3 day max without writing. I will leave you with a picture though. This evening I walked through a great cultural area. It is at the Valley of the Temples, and this temple is the Byodo-In. It is a Buddhist temple, that has a ginormous Buddha that sits in the center. It is amazing. I highly recommend it if you enjoy different cultural things. I thought it was a great ending to the day. Hiking to the top of the temple grounds, surrounded by gravestones, and vaults full of deceased families, literally, was a very calming thought-provoking experience. I had fantastic company, and great conversation. Seeing things like that reminds me of how very special my life is. I love my life. I love my family. I could never ask for more. DH and DD truly are my everything.

An akward observation of sorts....

A little weepy and going down memory lane. Was reading a portion of an email DH sent me right before he deployed the first time. It's crazy to think of all that we have been through since this email made it's way to my computer. Not to mention everything we had gone through before he sent it. My DH is the greatest. He knows exactly what to do to bring tears to my eyes. Honestly, coming across this email did make little pools of sadness well up in the corners of my "stainless steel" level-headed outside persona. They ended up making their way down south in small streams that ended up pooling on a pillow. Well, enough of all that. :P On a happier note, I have decided I must be sending out some kind of vibe. Maybe it is a stay the hell away from me vibe, but none the less, I got mistaken for a soldier today. The guy said I "looked, and acted like one" I am not sure what the heck that is suppose to mean, but I think it has to do with my tom-boyish figure... lol.. within the first few moments of meeting me, I came waltzing in the door in my husbands cut off t-shirt, gym shorts, tennis shoes, a sports bra, and 2 hours of gym sweat still clinging to my clothing. I got introduced and a quick "wassup" exited my lips and a brisk hand shake before I was off to help my friends move their household goods that had just arrived.(AKA furniture,clothing,etc. it's what they call it when the Army ships your stuff) A bit after when everyone was relaxing and eating dinner, I got asked where I was stationed and what my MOS was. I thought he was talking about DH. He was talking about me. I was a bit taken back, and asked him if I looked military? He of course, said yes ,and that I acted like it as well. It was a very interesting encounter. Sitting on the back porch, it was pointed out to me that I sit like a guy too... I guess I really need to polish up on some of this womanly girlie crap before I have to go any where important. DH has never said anything to me really, I mean he has cracked a few jokes about how I don't wear shoes and made me promise to shave my legs at least once a week while he was deployed, LOL, but besides that, I think I have "girlied-up" quite a bit over the last few years. When DH met me, I was pretty rough and tumble, and wasn't afraid to do or try anything.I was in the high school ROTC program, sports,and anything else I could think of.I loved shooting in Pentathlon, and doing Color Guard. I didn't even own but one dress, and maybe one skirt. Come to think of it, that skirt is up in my closet still. Now, I own multiple dresses that I wear on a regular basis, and a few nice girlie outfits. I do prefer my jeans and t-shirt, but maybe a few times a month I like to play what I call "dress-up" since for me, it is dressing up to wear a sundress and do all of my make up. I do like looking "pretty" for DH though. I try, I really do to be girlie. It's just I fail miserably. I can't even walk in heels without rolling my ankle. I prefer my Harley Davidson boots, and maybe a long tie-dyed skirt and a form fitting baby T. I should have been born in a different era. I wonder if there are lessons on how to be girlie. I see a new Google search in the near future. I CAN dress up, it's just I can't break my mannerisms. I will wear a sundress and whip a chair backwards and sit on it. I look all petite in my little white sundress, and then will eat an entire steak dinner, when most woman I guess prefer the chicken? Or a salad? The waiters always stare at me. Oh well, I guess DH loves me just the way I am. Either that or he has just gotten used to it! LOL! Ever heard the term, you can dress her up but you can't take her out?? Whom ever coined that term must be a dude I went on a date with back in middle school. I prefer beer over any other type of alcoholic beverage, man-beer at that, not these foo-foo girlie drinks people pass off as beer. I rarely drink, but when I do, I prefer the taste of real-hops thank you.Poker, I LOVE beating the boys at some Hold'Em. Maybe I'm not so bad after-all.... at least DH will always have the joy of me sitting on the couch screaming at the TV , watching football and drinking a beer with him. I can't wait until he gets home and we can scream together. That's when you know your life is better than you could have ever imagined it being. When you scream "HOLDING" in unison, and you both jump up and down on the couch asking the ref if he is watching the same game you are.That's love. A union made in BBQ grillin,sports watchin,beer drinking heaven. I love my dysfunctional family.

Today at the gym, I had a semi emotional break down. It wasn't because of anything that happened, it was more along the lines of compassion. Compassion that I some times fear the world has forgotten about. A clear reminder that others believe the same thing as I do. I have a large tendency to see the good in people. I see the bad also, but in my mind, the good always triumphs in the world of bad. It's back to the fact that I am and always have been a glass half full kind of person, an optimist, a crazy, happy,almost- over -the -edge, optimist. A friend of mine just a few days ago, lost her brother in law in Iraq. Her family lives here, and I took care of her son when he was an infant. It really shook me to the core. It was so close to home. Well, I guess I have been having a lot of that "close-to-home" lately. As I wrote about previously , I am a constant avid worrier, and things like this have a tendency to heighten those senses. I feel an immense amount of grief for the family, seeing as I have *almost*(as in not a family member) been in their shoes. I have been thinking about this often lately. The possibility of death. It's one of those things that you like to push out of your mind, but as any seasoned military spouse knows, it is not entirely possible to do at any given moment. Even as optimistic as I am, it is still a fear that eats at me every day. Today at the gym, the news was telling a very short blurb of a story on a man named Michael Reagan. He left a lucrative career to start something that is called the Fallen Heroes Project. As I was watching this short story, I found my heart fill up with sadness, and gratitude. It is because of people like him, that I feel there is hope for this world. That genuine, good people, still exist.Michael draws wonderful, completely life-like free portraits of Fallen Soldiers from the wars(Iraq and Afghanistan is what the project is for, but also other wars). On his website it says some thing along the lines of "what if all you had left of a loved one were photos and memories?" That statement is one I don't often like to think about, much less talk about, but blogging isn't talking per say, so it is much easier for me to write my emotions down, as opposed to speaking them. As I was sweating my brains out feeling the blood pump through my veins, I thought about this. What if that was all I had?? I don't like to live my life surrounding "what ifs", but I was humoring myself for the moment. How would I handle life, knowing that the greatest thing that ever happened to me, had been reduced to memories and paper? I know it is a bit morbid to think about, but in all honesty things like that DO cross my mind. I know I am a self reliant, independent, strong woman, but how would I fair if my everything came crashing down and the love of my life, was taken from me? It's not a far reached outcome. It in all certainty is plausible that, it could happen. I know it's probably not healthy, and I know it's not even possible to analytically gauge my potential reaction to something like that, but in that moment,watching the families open that life-like portrait, seeing the reaction of the children that were left behind, was completely heart-breaking.You could see in their faces the gratitude they had for this man, who had given them this one last piece of their "world" back to them, and how much aching the entire families were going through seeing something that looked real enough to touch again, feel again, and they were desperately grabbing for that. There are times that I swear I can feel DH, and then I am reminded of the all too real reality, that it is not possible, not at this moment anyway. To go through life knowing that it will never be a possibility again, well I don't know how I would handle that.I like to think DH has taught me to be strong, for him, for our family, that I would be able to eventually put the pieces back together again.That because of what DH has always meant to me, that I would do it for him. I promised him that one time.I promised him I wouldn't completely fall apart.That I would try my best to be the woman he knows now. I like to think I would stay true to my promises. I hold hope every day, that he will come home to me. After all, this is OUR fairy tale, only together, whether physically, or in memory, can we make our story come true. www.fallenheroesproject.org