Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Conversations with the warrior.

The sun is back. Mostly I'm happy about this because it means the return of my motivation in all areas. I throw open the curtains on my huge picture windows and light floods my inner spaces. Like a solar panel, I can feel myself charging up - skin stretching, cells expanding, soul surging. Seratonin practically bursts forth from my head, like a fully-formed warrior.

But then on the exhalation, with all my nerves tingling in newfound awareness, it comes to me that something is missing. After four months, it's not a surprise - there's no jolt back to the state of normal that defines this year - it's just a reminder. A two-fingered jab into the fleshy part on the back of my shoulder that says, "Hey you, remember me?"

Yes, of course. How could I not? You keep turning up like a bad penny. When I'm fixing dinner, you haunt the shadowed doorway. When I'm brushing my teeth, you grin maliciously from a corner of the mirror. When I wrap my arms around his pillow, you're the sound of only one heartbeat pulsing in my ear. You're there with every random thought that I want to share and every funny story that I know would make him laugh.

The reminder is silent.

Of course you don't have anything to say now. There's no need, right? Not when I acknowledge you as the proverbial elephant in the room. Well, I'll do you one better. Not only do I acknowledge you - I accept you, you pale, insubstantial substitute for the real thing. You aren't my enemy. You're my weapon. One of many, together with the smiles of our daughter, the energy of our dog, the sunshine and the activities, the goals and the projects - they're all weapons to fight the real enemy. You've got a double edge, sure, every sword does. It's taken me a while to learn how to use every tool in my arsenal. 

Insidious and ghostlike you may be, but as long as you're hovering around the edges, I know what's important. You remind me of what's worth fighting for and the real enemy - indifference - doesn't stand a chance.

Monday, March 7, 2011


Shortly after I took this picture, Heidi and I tried to grab the same stick, in the same place - at the same time. The difference was, she used her teeth and I used my hand. This scenario did not end well for anyone. 

So I've been gone awhile, in case you haven't noticed. After being laid low by a disease state throwback to the plague, I re-emerged to find that the world did not, in fact, stand still while I was sick and all the things I had committed to before being overrun with guerrilla viral germs were still there, impatiently awaiting my attention. This led me to think that perhaps my next commitment should be to a loony bin, but then I looked around my house and thought, "And the big difference would be....?"


Somehow - and actually I know how, but I'm not going into it right now because the self-pity card plays better when I feign ignorance -  I ended up with volunteer positions at our garrison's Public Affairs Office and as a delegate at our local-level AFAP conference. The PAO job is on-going (roving-reporter type) and the AFAP delegate (see the link for more info about that if you're curious) turned into a public speaking gig that made my hands shake and my knees knock. (I'm not a huge fan of public speaking - my own or anyone else's. But it's my own that makes my heart do an impression of a rock drum solo. Other people's just annoy me.)

All this hasn't left me a lot of time to ruminate on the trials and tribulations of a deployment which was KIND OF THE IDEA. While my sanity has benefited, sadly this blog has not. The good news is that motivation has returned with the sunshine and I'm sure I'll have some biased and emotional opinions to spew all over the place soon.