Monday, June 6, 2011


Time is ticking. David leaves in less than two weeks. I can't really comprehend that, but I keep thinking about it. Constantly. I woke up this morning, and on CNN, they reported that 5 US soldiers were killed in Iraq. The largest loss of life in months. It is such an awful place that he is going to. I asked him not to go the other night. Yes, are house is in foreclosure. Yes, we are broke. Yes, we have a pile of bills we can't pay. Yes, food and gas are getting more expensive, and our health care costs continue to rise. But it just doesn't seem right to send him all the way, to, what to me, sounds like hell on earth, just to try and hold onto what we have. It shouldn't have to be this hard.  

I think about him being there. Alone. Away from his family, and every comfort of home. I would never be brave enough to do it. Yet, he is happy to have this opportunity. He is willing to do this, and hasn't complained once. I am so very proud of him. I am in awe of his selflessness.

I recall one late fall evening, long ago. I was riding on the late bus, on my way home from a long day at school, and field hockey practice. I was in junior high school. I remember looking at the orange sky, and the silhouettes of trees, bare,from having lost their leaves. I was sitting alone. I remember vividly thinking to myself, that I needed to remember this moment in time. Every detail I committed to memory. My shirt was blue, and had the number 19 on it. I wore cleats. I had my hair down. I remember thinking that before I knew it, I would be an adult. That the years of junior high, and high school, and college would whisk by, and in the blink of an eye, this moment would be over, and I would no longer be young. I kept thinking at that very second that this was brief, and soon, I would look back at that bus ride, and be in disbelief at how quickly it all went.

I think about that moment from time to time. I think about that girl, sitting there on the late bus, trying to be athletic. Trying to fit in. Trying to become someone, and just wishing I could get to the point of being there. Through the years, I have visited that evening on the bus, in my mind. Through my decade of being carefree, and wild, living alone in NYC. To the day I slipped into my wedding dress. The first time I held my baby. The day I placed my new drinking glasses into the cabinets in my house that David and I bought. The night I had a miscarriage, and couldn't understand why I felt indifferent about it, and questioned my ability to disconnect so easily. Days turn into months that pass into years. It all goes so quickly.

When I visit that late bus in my mind, I think about how very much I still feel like that  young girl. How very alone and scared and insecure I still am. How the future still frightens me with all of it's "what ifs". I just want to close my eyes, and commit every bit, every glance, and touch, and smell, and kiss, and sleepy morning, and giggle, and hurt, and just wake up 6 months from now. I wish I could fast forward through certain times of our life, and press pause on others.

 Last night, I had a dream that I was wearing snake skin shoes. They were speckled red and black. I walked into a gymnasium with David and the girls, and there on the gym floor was a red and black speckled snake, with legs like a centipede. It was long, and fast. It rippled across the floor, and caught sight of me. It raced toward me, and my shoes. I am not a snake, I thought, panicked. Please go away. I started to run. David told me to run as fast as I could toward the Exit. He was shouting, and laughing. Why was he laughing? I was terrified. I ran as fast as I could. I couldn't get away from that awful animal fast enough.

I am so incredibly afraid.

1 comment:

  1. You two are strong people, you will overcome the distance with loving thoughts of him while he is away. I worry also about my many friends that go over there. Just take it day by day, and he will be home before you know it.