Old Vs. New

At the pharmacy, on a military base, in the summer, just before the end of the month, it’s really crowded.

Is there a squadron just coming back from overseas, or is one getting ready to head out?  In front of me at the refill window, sporting a buzz cut, with T-shirt taut against a v-cut back and bulging biceps, calf muscles bulging beneath the legs of his jeans, the Marine is the image of health, fitness and strength.  Behind me is an older gentleman, perhaps in his eighties. He is tall, and he looks to be in good health at a glance, though he pitches forward slightly and has a bit of a slow, slightly staggering gait.  He asks if I am in line.  As I glance up and reply, I notice his decorated ball cap.  Without wanting to do a double take, I think, “Did it say Vietnam Veteran”?  I am struck by the contrast of the man ahead and the man behind me.  As if looking at black and white photos of my handsome uncles in their 20s, my mind quickly flits to a vision of this older man as a strapping youngster with his tone showing through his T-shirt, like the man ahead of me.  Both deserving respect and admiration for service to their country,  I’m sure the young man when in uniform gets it.  I ask the man behind me if he’d like to go ahead of me.  He barely indicates ‘yes’, but moves ahead, not offering gratitude, confusion, or need.  I’m not offended.  It occurs to me that his energy is being spent on this outing, and he needn’t waste any on acknowledging me.  If I had all the time in the world,  and a bit more courage, I would have loved to ask him about his service, proudly displayed on his cap, with Veteran neatly stitched in the Navy gold lettering that stands out so well on a navy blue cap. 

The woman behind the counter tells him that it is a forty-five minute to an hour wait.  Perhaps she is struck by the same contrast in her customers that struck me.  She offers that he can go do something and come back.  He says he’ll wait, but says to the air as he turns, ...if there is a seat.  There is a seat, at the far end of the waiting room.  So with his slow, slightly staggering gait he heads that way.  I don’t have the authority to make anyone nearer get up.

7/29/10

A Window

My computer screen is like a window, but sometimes the promise of seeing a wider scope lacks excitement. This is one of those times. Boredom leads me to ask myself, "What am I looking for?" I open the Outlook window and start with e-mail. Not interested in ads, sales, or planning the kids' soccer schedules right now, I move to Facebook. It is like flipping on the TV during a long commercial break. I get some enjoyment out of the brief stimulation given by 'flipping' through posts, letting my mind wander quickly from one topic to another. Feeling chatty, I'll toss out comments and get some satisfaction of interaction in ways that the old, and these days more and more infrequent, e-mail conversations and phone calls used to give. But it is short lived consolation and I log off.

I could be productive! At certain, though infrequent, times, opening Quicken and being one hundred percent on top of the household financial ins and outs is a nice outlet. It does produce a nice sense of self-micromanagement and control! But that's not what I'm after at the moment, either. The computer window should be image-oriented visual, right? Pictures! I can upload, reduce red eye, label, organize. Those are all good, productive tasks. But it's late and I'm not after productivity. It's time to wind down. So I close the picture manager window and pause as I think about shutting down the computer, my 'window' to the outside world. And there, on the desktop background, is the picture I took of my husband waving at me in digital blues with a seabag on his back as I dropped him off to catch the ship. It's been four busy, productive, even-keeled days. I've even enjoyed my time with the children, quiet time reading, and catching part of a movie on TV. But now I recognize my pattern of jumping from one window to the next, looking for something I can't find. I'm just missing him.
Written Spring 2010

Sewing Machine Shopping

I deserve the big heavy computerized expensive sewing machine that does monogram letters! But my navy wife friend is right. –“You’re going overseas, to a smaller house. Buy the cheaper, smaller light weight portable sewing machine!” She said it three times and I laughed all three –buy the smaller sewing machine, buy the smaller sewing machine, buy the smaller sewing machine. She is right, as military families we have different concerns than our neighbors. It is so nice to hear a wise voice of reason when I need one. It’s not that I’m not worth it, it’s just that I need to buy the smaller sewing machine! I can always buy a bigger better one when we are not moving anymore, when everything has it's place and I'm really ready to try embroidering.
1/10/2011

Veteran's Day

For Veteran’s Day weekend our Military Friendship and Support Group does a popular picture prayer board at my church. Families send in pictures of loved ones now deceased to loved ones currently deployed.  It is very special to be the custodian of other people’s cherished memories, hopes and prayers. The weight of this small, simple task never escapes me. 11/12/2010

A Good Back to School Weekend

There isn’t time for everything. Especially when I’m playing the pseudo-single mom role (I won’t call myself a true single mom, because my husband is in the picture as a huge support, he’s just away.) Amidst soccer games and last minute school supplies, paying mid-month bills in the nick of time, filling out the next bunch of school forms, and learning about all the fundraisers that are starting, I made time for satisfaction, even during the second weekend after the kids started back to school. Between soccer games, I cooked and I baked! I had the gals over on short notice for some late night snacks and chat while the kids slept upstairs! Accepting no arguments, I took the kids to the park for an hour to practice soccer! We counted their piggy banks! It was a very good, very satisfying weekend.

I did give up my shower. And doing my hair, and putting on makeup.  But today, I have out-of-the-house things to get done, so shower and dressed to the shoes is the program! My hair smells like grape as I used up the last of the girls’ conditioner that they can’t get out of the bottle, because I’m still my type of don't-waste-it mom.  But my hair is styled and sleek. Some days make-up is like war paint as I prepare to face the world. Dotted on concealer hides the under-eye circles. Blending in more concealer finishes the job. A little rose on the lips and a little black on the lashes. Now I look adult, and the smell of the grape conditioner is fading under the hairspray. The jeans probably have grass in the cuffs from watching the early morning weekend soccer game. I’ll just shake that out and run a rag across my shoe toes. I’m ready to face the world.
9/20/10

The Sound I Hate

I just talked to a military wife and heard the sound I hate, the wavering in her voice. Military spouses are so seasoned at hiding their trouble, that when I hear the voice waiver, I know it’s bad. But if you were to ask how they are, military wives will always say ‘fine’. Ask if they need anything. They will always say ‘Ahh.., nooo’. That right there is the very subtle key for which you are listening. That slightest of pauses and the slightly drawn out ‘no’. If you listen too quickly you’ll miss it. If you hear it, the next puzzle is what to do! Personally, that sound always makes me feel like crying for them (because remember, if you hear it, things are bad). So I have to take a deep breath. Then I try to focus on one concrete detail and I ask about it or talk about it: a date, a time, a ship, an illness, an upcoming event or activity, anything focused and concrete. Typically I end up hesitating or saying something dumb the first time, but I persist and keep trying. Persist! She didn’t hang up on you or turn away. So the persistence is worthwhile. If you can keep the conversation engaged until you sense a sign of relief, you have given that person a wonderful gift which will propel her through the next day, week, month (it doesn’t last a year). These women are resilient. They can take a momentary gift of someone showing care and understanding and feed off of it for a very long time. Definitely say (only if you mean it) ‘If you need something, call me.’ If she does call you, take it as a deep honor. Typically she won’t, because you just gave her the safety net she needs to make it on her own. 11/2009

Two people sitting on base

He was rubbing his friend's back. His friend was hunched over, head on knees. Sorrow or pain held in t-shirts and jeans. The truck was pulled over, hazard lights flashing. The door was still open. They were taking a moment. Rejoice! They were taking a moment! There, on a sunny, breezy San Diego day, sitting in the weeds on the side of a main road on the Marine Corps Base. They needed a minute, or few.
As a passerby I can’t know their story. I couldn’t even tell the gender of the person doubled over. Was she a young wife with morning sickness? Were they two friends who had just lost a buddy in the violence of war? Was she just exhausted with the tensions, unknowns, and weight of having to hold their world together while he was gone? Were they a couple working things out after a long deployment?
Sizing up the situation as I drove up, I quickly decided that the hurting person had help. Nothing I had to offer was needed. A couple of friends, on a busy military base, just needed to stop the world, get out of the car, and take a moment. I hope I see more of that.