If you would have asked me when I was 17, what my life would be like, I never thought I'd..
Have been married at 22
Had a baby by 23
Had another at 26
Gotten completely over being Molested as a child.
Felt so completely in love and complete with one man
Been any part of the US Military System
Had a husband who had been off to war twice
Had enough guts to finally get a tattoo sleeve
Spent most of the last 9 years as a housewife
Moved out of New Jersey
Lived in a Foreign Country
Quit College (a few times)
Been married for 10 years by the time I reached 32...
I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.
Sometimes I just think to myself, "How the fuck did I get here?" I'm a housewife, living on an Air Force Base, Living without Eddie again, in fucking Colorado Springs. I was supposed to go to college, finish that in 4 years with plans to go to dental school. If it had all worked out as planned, I'd be an orthodontist by now. I would probably be living somewhere in NJ with a job and a house and make people's ugly teeth pretty for a living.
Every time I felt like I was taking a long turn, it led me to the right path. I am supposed to be here. I might get bored from time to time (ok, bored often) and feel like I will burst but this too will make sense. There are so many chains of events that, at first, seemed like horrible tragedies but always ended up leading us to higher ground.
Ok.. enough rambling. I have an episode of Top Model to finish!
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
Today was my first day back at school. I was dreading going back. I've been dreading it since 3 weeks ago. I've been trying to think of a way to get out of going back. Eddie said he'd like it if I finished so back I went.
I'm very glad I went. I absolutely love doing what I do there. It felt like second nature and I wasn't as rusty as I thought I'd be. When Eddie called, at the end of my school day, I thanked him for his encouragement to go back.
Speaking of Eddie, I would like him to know how grateful I am for how supportive he's been lately. He's always been supportive, but lately he has really gone out of his way. I guess it means more now because he's not here physically.
When we are separated, which in the last four and a half years, has been often we make a stronger and more meaningful connection. It hurts more each time he leaves, but in another way it is easier. First time, we spoke only through letters. I planned my days around his letters arriving. Tuesday through Saturday I would get letters. Tuesday I would get 3. It would be the letters from the previous Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I would wait for the mail person. She usually arrived around three pm. One especially torturous stretch, after the huge, gigantic blizzard we had that year, I had to wait an extra 5 days for a letter. The mail carrier (sounds better than mail person doesn't it?) refused to walk down our street to deliver mail because of the "treacherous" conditions.
That time I made a routine. Avery was in school from 11:30 - 3:00. As soon as the bus picked him up from the house, Ryan and I got in the car. I would stop at Dunkin Donuts for an iced coffee and occasionally a scone. On the days I didn't have a scone, I would stop by Mc Donalds for a Ceaser salad with balsamic dressing. I then drove to my favorite place at the time, Stacy Park. I would pull up along side the road and watch the Delaware river as it rushed past. I would write my letter for the day to Eddie and then take Ryan for a walk down the trail, along the River. At this point, he was usually asleep. I would walk 2.2 miles and go back home to get Avery off the bus.
Now, if you know me at all, I don't exactly have the regimental type of personality. I usually live in some state of chaos, not bothered by my lack of routine. For some reason, this was the only thing that kept me going. I had something each and every day to look forward to. I enjoyed the beauty which is so unique to Trenton. Its a mixture of high hopes from long ago and an especially sad decay. It is the kind of decay that hurts when you realize that the beautiful buildings that were built a hundred years ago, that held so many people with class, are now crumbling, being eaten by termites, crack dealers, welfare and neglect.
My grandmother lived in Trenton her whole life. She came of age in 1933, back when Trenton was beautiful. Downtown was alive with shops, theaters, venues, hotels and nightlife. She told of Frank Sinatra before he was famous performing while my grandpop and her watched. She would scoff at the women walking down the street with their hair in curlers and remark how, years ago, you would never be caught walking down those streets with curlers in you hair. They used to get dressed in their finest to go downtown.
These thoughts and my routine kept me going. I made it through. We hadn't spent one night apart in 8 years. Then he was gone. No phone calls, no email, just letters. I felt like I was closer to him than ever when those letters came. It reminded me of how much he had sacrificed for our family so we could have a good life.
It wasn't but two days shy of a year of his enlistment date that they shipped him to Iraq. Every single day that went by I worried for his safety. Every time I though about how much time I had left to endure, my heart broke. Every time I thought about how long it had been since our last physical contact I would cry. When I thought of him going without positive physical contact for so long, I would cry for him. I don't know what kept me going that time. I was alone in Germany so eventually I went home to NJ. Things got so bad at home that I flew back to Germany two weeks before Christmas. I spent Christmas virtually alone but at that point, I was in the home stretch. One day blended into another and eventually it was over. He was home.
During this time we had a lot of contact. He could call me. He had near constant internet access so we chatted back and forth. This deployment taught me that every second with him is precious. We finally knew how much we hated being apart. It felt like half my physical body was missing. It was like a tooth aching in a jaw bone. (10pts if you can name the artist and song quoted there... no cheating)
This time I don't worry about his safety. I know he's in a good place. He's got an easy job that doesn't require convoying all over Iraq. I chat with him there too. This time, it is the support I am getting from him that is helping me through. Eventually this one will be over too and we'll be even stronger.
There are times where I wish we could be one person. It would be the only way for us to be closer than we already are.
I have been very, very happy lately in spite of the deployment. I finally feel like I am 100% who I am. The inside and the outside match. There is an incredible serenity in being that comfortable in your own skin.
I'm very glad I went. I absolutely love doing what I do there. It felt like second nature and I wasn't as rusty as I thought I'd be. When Eddie called, at the end of my school day, I thanked him for his encouragement to go back.
Speaking of Eddie, I would like him to know how grateful I am for how supportive he's been lately. He's always been supportive, but lately he has really gone out of his way. I guess it means more now because he's not here physically.
When we are separated, which in the last four and a half years, has been often we make a stronger and more meaningful connection. It hurts more each time he leaves, but in another way it is easier. First time, we spoke only through letters. I planned my days around his letters arriving. Tuesday through Saturday I would get letters. Tuesday I would get 3. It would be the letters from the previous Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I would wait for the mail person. She usually arrived around three pm. One especially torturous stretch, after the huge, gigantic blizzard we had that year, I had to wait an extra 5 days for a letter. The mail carrier (sounds better than mail person doesn't it?) refused to walk down our street to deliver mail because of the "treacherous" conditions.
That time I made a routine. Avery was in school from 11:30 - 3:00. As soon as the bus picked him up from the house, Ryan and I got in the car. I would stop at Dunkin Donuts for an iced coffee and occasionally a scone. On the days I didn't have a scone, I would stop by Mc Donalds for a Ceaser salad with balsamic dressing. I then drove to my favorite place at the time, Stacy Park. I would pull up along side the road and watch the Delaware river as it rushed past. I would write my letter for the day to Eddie and then take Ryan for a walk down the trail, along the River. At this point, he was usually asleep. I would walk 2.2 miles and go back home to get Avery off the bus.
Now, if you know me at all, I don't exactly have the regimental type of personality. I usually live in some state of chaos, not bothered by my lack of routine. For some reason, this was the only thing that kept me going. I had something each and every day to look forward to. I enjoyed the beauty which is so unique to Trenton. Its a mixture of high hopes from long ago and an especially sad decay. It is the kind of decay that hurts when you realize that the beautiful buildings that were built a hundred years ago, that held so many people with class, are now crumbling, being eaten by termites, crack dealers, welfare and neglect.
My grandmother lived in Trenton her whole life. She came of age in 1933, back when Trenton was beautiful. Downtown was alive with shops, theaters, venues, hotels and nightlife. She told of Frank Sinatra before he was famous performing while my grandpop and her watched. She would scoff at the women walking down the street with their hair in curlers and remark how, years ago, you would never be caught walking down those streets with curlers in you hair. They used to get dressed in their finest to go downtown.
These thoughts and my routine kept me going. I made it through. We hadn't spent one night apart in 8 years. Then he was gone. No phone calls, no email, just letters. I felt like I was closer to him than ever when those letters came. It reminded me of how much he had sacrificed for our family so we could have a good life.
It wasn't but two days shy of a year of his enlistment date that they shipped him to Iraq. Every single day that went by I worried for his safety. Every time I though about how much time I had left to endure, my heart broke. Every time I thought about how long it had been since our last physical contact I would cry. When I thought of him going without positive physical contact for so long, I would cry for him. I don't know what kept me going that time. I was alone in Germany so eventually I went home to NJ. Things got so bad at home that I flew back to Germany two weeks before Christmas. I spent Christmas virtually alone but at that point, I was in the home stretch. One day blended into another and eventually it was over. He was home.
During this time we had a lot of contact. He could call me. He had near constant internet access so we chatted back and forth. This deployment taught me that every second with him is precious. We finally knew how much we hated being apart. It felt like half my physical body was missing. It was like a tooth aching in a jaw bone. (10pts if you can name the artist and song quoted there... no cheating)
This time I don't worry about his safety. I know he's in a good place. He's got an easy job that doesn't require convoying all over Iraq. I chat with him there too. This time, it is the support I am getting from him that is helping me through. Eventually this one will be over too and we'll be even stronger.
There are times where I wish we could be one person. It would be the only way for us to be closer than we already are.
I have been very, very happy lately in spite of the deployment. I finally feel like I am 100% who I am. The inside and the outside match. There is an incredible serenity in being that comfortable in your own skin.
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