Dear LEGS: When is it TIME......?**

091212
Day 118
Dear LEGS

A Memoir

Time.  Always thinking about time......and taking time to think....humans are such victims of it.....its a measurement that I am beginning to resent......on purpose......a strange dichotomy that I feel I am constantly fighting, battling and relentlessly up against whether I am grasping to every precious second or painfully suffering and trudging through every millisecond.....waiting, striving, waiting, and crying....

Old people tend to bring on a certain antiqued nostalgia, reflection, not just in a mirror....but over the life span.......a genuine silly kind of laughter, both sad, painful, sometimes boring and amusing history lessons, and require an IRON CLAD capacity for patience......almost EVERYTHING is SLOWER, HARDER, and more TEDIOUS......

The entire house, and everything on the inside  and outside is covered in dust and cobwebs, everything has a story........every item, a relic, a keepsake, a bobble of some moment in time......57 years of a life together.....all these items marking some moment.....when I see these things.....when I look at them I think, I think to myself, that I should very much like to have a life like theirs, that I would like to have a house like this full of artifacts of our life and our love together......

Growing up on a farm and being born during the Depression.....one picks up a few oddities and ideas on how to live life.....its completely normal to save food WAY past the EXPIRATION date.....never, ever, throw ANYTHING away.....and customarily have 400 stray and domesticated animals living with you.......

Strong, stronger, than every single person,  I personally know today.......resourceful.......hardy....., with a will to survive and live......a will to live that is so determined, so major and such a substantial piece of the genetic makeup.....I find myself intimidated.....when I really look at them.....when I really take in the nature of these people....in the full broad spectrum, its daunting.......and it strikes me to the core with nothing but awe...this kind....this type.....is RARE.....if not already extinct......

Witnessing both pain and beauty, enduring hardships, and enjoying many adventures.....stories.....many,  many stories are told.....REPEATEDLY......the verbs and adjectives mentioned by one partner and the nouns filled in by the other......

The sound of boots clunking across the wood floor are both a comforting and common sound in this house, dark brown beady eyes stare out from thick framed glasses, covered by thick bushy eyebrows and a 101st Airborne baseball cap, wearing suspenders and a pocket protector full of pens, tools and papers, all that keep scientific record of gas mileage...and such other things.....a great mind that has been responsible for many inventions...the mind, the brilliant beautiful mind, that has created some of the most amazing, innovative ideas and items seen around today.......but brilliance.....how sad it is, that brilliance comes at a cost.....

"I was drafted into the ARMY, first time I ever been on a airplane was on my way to basic......the flight attendants were the prettiest, nicest most charming women I have ever seen".....with a sparkle in his eye....memories shape a person, and its not hard to determine  the ideals and ideas of the women in this old man's life.....

A soft, high pitched, rich voice that is reminiscent of Margaret Thatcher....the patience and heart of a saint....her father whom everybody who can recollect was a great deal of a man, died of internal bleeding on Valentines Day, she had a sister who was mentally handicapped, though she wasn't always, being married to brilliance.....and the price that comes with it.....brings about the most compassionate and sensitive human being to walk this earth......enduring more than anybody else has been able to stand......

She says "I never wear these anymore...." her white t-shirt is ragged around the neck, her face once porcelain and young is now crinkled and aged.....her blue eyes peering out from her glasses with great concentration to see her reflection in the mirror......she tied the scarf around her neck and tended to it in the mirror....in her eyes......she was back in time.....and I wonder what it looks like.......

Loving that old time traditionalism that used to exist.....milk would be in a pitcher and left out, things would be served on platters and trays, that butter didn't come in cardboard and needed to be stored in a butter dish and that dishes were made of quality material and were meant to shine.......Movies were black and white and had REAL talent, slower, and genuine, and people not only in full character but in costume as well...

I fall upon.....a conclusion.....one that I am afraid to speak aloud.......a question that is begging to be asked......how.......how does a person stay ALIVE?  How does a person get up every single day and schlep through the same shit day in and day out for eighty years?  How......when so many things on the body are falling apart.....does a person continue the repetition of showering... ..limping.... ..eating... ..bending.. ..attending numerous doctor appointments....one waiting room to the next......as if you have all the time in the world......When most of your friends are in the ground.......And though I dare not ask......when is it time to......PASS......?

And here were are.......fighting......to FIGHT.....and fighting day in and day out to LIVE.......

Just another day in the life of an unlikely military wife.......**

Dear LEGS: Sentiently among others....**

Dear LEGS
090312
Day 109

A LETTER

I watched you. I watched you  until you were out of sight...oh but my dear you are never out of mind....and I lingered, I lingered to be sure you weren't coming back.....that last picture forever in my mind....you turned, you turned and fully faced me....a chance wave....(and I smile)...and I strain, I strain to make every single detail out.....but the light....the light was shining from behind you...what a vision.....I cannot clearly see your expression.....I threw both of my arms up blowing you kisses.....then you walked behind the partition......how long, how long should I wait?  How long should I stand here.....how long is bordering on desperate.....?

Oh my dear god.....its really over.....the disbelief rises up....the incredulity that I made it through, that I am still breathing....that my heart is still functioning.....looking down at my feet....I can't help the ascent and waves of anguish resulting in the gushing of tears.....all dropping upon my shoes......

Tear, tear, tears are pouring out of my eyes....bewildered, stumbling.....begging my body to take over, to gain some sort of manageable composure....I heave and I fall....and I somehow make it back.....I feel eyes on me......and I think LOOK AWAY....look away because this is sacred....this act of grief should be private not a public display of theater......

I see a woman...she knows what happened, she saw us, she saw the goodbye, and she looks at me, in obvious pain.....I can't bare it, simply cannot bare it....so I look down....I think that I can't handle my pain and her pain too.....I grab the handle of the door.... it feels good in my hand...finally something solid....something to steady me.....I take a deep breath and I climb on inside.....

I climb inside myself.........Its time.  Time. TO. STOP.  Time to just stop. Stop time.  Stop feeling.  Stop crying.......stop going forward, stop feeling,  crying will not save you, it will not bring you back.....and crying.....well you see.....crying will only make me weak, it will only beg of others to pity and to sorrow, and I have pride god dammit......I am not a victim and my tears when they fall will mean the most.......if the others before it are spared only sparingly......

Its not easy for me to witness the world the way it is....to lay eyes on it....and the people in it......when I feel as if I have lived more life than many, many, combined......self-righteous you say? perhaps arrogant? I laugh at you...... No....no.....perceptive, perceptive and always watching....confident, sure of the thing that I see....and studious...always studying the motions, expressions and words that fall out of their mouths...I watch them as I drive home....I watch them when I get home.....I watch and watch.....and I listen.......

Two weeks with you gave me just enough time to heal that horrific wound that opened the day you left....and two days without you....has given everybody around me plenty of time to rip it open again and pour acid into it......and let me tell you...let me tell you that...people lack the character.....and the ability to live vicariously, empathetically and sentiently among others.....

And everybody wants to pick sides and criticize and argue...hollering, and yelling as if to get their point across..but nobody argues about the right things....and there it is.....a friend....a friend that I had forgotten....my faithful, comforting and reliable friend......ANGER.......it embraces me, humors me, anger is my companion.....it burns.....but I like the pain......

When an old man who has lived a long life says to a woman....."I won't argue with a 29 year old about these things......." "These things"....he says......It implies....that the life experiences that woman has had mean nothing.....how could personal involvement, sacrifice, and heart break over the span of 10 years and two different wars mean so little....?

They write movies, plays, televise historical shows, write songs, fly flags and constantly report on the news about "these things"....so if its such a major part of our daily lives and our history- how could her plight be minimized so easily???

He says "don't be so tough..." I laugh on the inside and think old man tough is the only way I know how to be......he says "you could use some humility" and I laugh even harder now......humility.....and I think old man....I am so down to earth....I am so below the surface.....I spend my days covered in ruins and rubble......I spend my days hibernating......my fire has died down so low only embers remain.....and now only the phone calls, only the messages, only the thought of your face blows on them to keep them burning.......

Its one thing to be lonely...but being lonely and alone.....well that....that is the kind of punishment....the kind of torture.....that I fear is worse than any mid-evil brand....that is the worst thing.....that keeps me meek, passive and modest......no old man.....lessons in humility, and lessons in tenderness are not needed here.....

And finally.......when everything gets quiet, when everybody is asleep and its dark outside the windows.........when I have moments to myself, you can finally occupy my thoughts......do you know? Do you know right this second, this very time that I am thinking of you?  Are you looking out....looking up.....is my face the image in your mind?  Its a foolish thought....how could I ever know? These foolish things....these haunting thoughts put me in a uneasy slumber.........

I had a dream.....but it wasn't a dream.....it was a nightmare......I have had many nightmares before....but none like this one......this one left me not with fear.....but with the greenish feeling of being sick.....like horribly sea sick....unable to overcome the feeling of bile rising up in my throat......unable to calm the sickness.....

I was wearing a dress.....the dress I wore at your flight school graduation....it was blowing in the wind....I was walking barefoot on the green green grass.....the sun was shining so bright that everything was blurry....but I had something, something in my hands...it was flowers.....or a flag...I was stepping over these big white stones......and then finally I came to a different stone.....it wasn't white,  but it was bronze.....I bent down and wiped away grass clippings and leaves from the stone......and on this stone it read your name......

GASP......NO NO NO!  I am conscious now.....and angry.....angry that I dreamt such a thing......I have had nightmares before, but before I have never dreamt such things......how could I....how could I dream this?  I am ashamed of myself and I bullshit it away, minimizing and rationalizing...forcing violently this memory, this etching in my mind....but deep deep deep down.....under all the defense mechanisms......I am utterly....utterly unhinged......

Just another day in the life of an unlikely military wife......**

Dear LEGS: The permanent proclamation...**

Dear LEGS
090112
Day 107

A MEMOIR

We had freedom for two weeks.....or the sense of it.....before we would have to walk together, our eyes filled with tears, our hearts filled with dread, our shoulders hunched over baring the heavy load, weighed down with the heavy burden of WAR for uncle Sam......

I said "Man I don't want LEGS to leave......" And somebody said "that's life...."  No. No it isn't just life, its life and its death.....and its not any ordinary life.  This life cannot be summed up and cast away and generalized with the ordinary.  When we make up such a small population.....this is not just a ordinary LIFE.....how we wish, it were......

The wind picked up our last night together, the trees flailed noisily and big gusts pounded the house causing it to creek and groan in protest.  I cursed the wind, damned it for making our last night so sinister and restless.....I felt like the house....I felt like a hundred years old.....And still the wind pressed on...still blowing in violent fits, my senses are heightened....I crouch in bed like a frightened child telling myself if I get closer and hunker down farther that no harm will come.....muttering obscenities...why must it feel as if the supernatural is sending me a message?

And here we are again...in this non-spatial continuum...counting down the hours, counting down the minutes....counting down and down and down......I have to mentally coach myself through every second, I watch you look at the clock and I feel like air is being snatched out of my lungs, I non-committed, smile, when you look at me.....I hold your hand and try like hell not to get lost in those pools of blue.....I tell myself.....just place one foot in front of the other, just breathe, just deal, just cope.....I have to forcefully drive my psyche into handling the inevitable and violent separation......

Your hiding it too.....but I can feel it....I can feel the pain, the panic....I know that this time its hard for you.....you have to face me, and only me....there are no other men around to share and show bravado with, no distractions.....and I feel badly for this....so I make jokes and I laugh, and I pretend its a normal day......but this isn't normal.....forcing yourself to do such a thing isn't normal......

Our conversations are choppy, but wistful and significant....we speak on the future.....we speak on the future, and the past, we talk about the people we know that have overcome the worst, we talk about overcoming and living, surviving, we talk about dying, we talk about living....and how when you return we are gonna start.......

The room we shared is a disaster.....and I start cleaning it and packing things, I tell myself to keep moving....keeping moving and it will all wash through with my momentum, instead of a gory, frightful massacre left behind....it will be a clean, organized massacre.....I look out and there you are lacing up your boots....such a poignant, dramatic scene....straight from the best films I have ever seen, except this is you....this is me....this is our life.......

Still the room is a disaster, left empty with relics of this slice of heaven that were shared between two people......When I returned home.....it was like the wind came and captured it all.....taking with it all that remains.....the only proof you were ever here is the ink on my skin......and the permanent proclamation on yours.......

We are in the car.....the signs, and the trees, and the cars, with normal people pass by us.....and still I hear our hearts beating hard and fast.....and its all happening so fast....your standing there with your bags in your camouflage, and we begin to walk....

People are starring at us, with pity in their eyes and shock on their faces.....they look at us with pity.....it makes me angry....don't pity us! I think in my mind....we don't need your pity.....this is not a regrettable act, or some embarrassing scandal.....this is life.....right? No. But this, is, reality, and you should see it, but don't pity us.....not before we say goodbye.....before we say good bye, you should look at us with PRIDE!

We sit down for a minute....and take silly pictures, and you record messages for me.....always the awkward moments, always those moments where we try to speak but the words are cut short by tears....always trying to fight the complete breakdown......

And now its time......TIME....the time is now.....now is the time.....its the last minute, the last moment, the last second we could spare, the last one that we could hold tightly onto, before the bravery must show, the courage must come, and the resistance to this exact thing must be quieted.....

We embrace each other.....I try to remember the smell and the feeling, the vision.....FOREVER....we say the words that we always say.......I will meet you....you know the place.....I will come back to you....please come back to me...I love you to infinity for eternity......I found you, you who my soul loves and I held you and I will never let you go......

It feels different this time though....more desperate, more intense.....and as you pull away...I see it....something I never see, a small tear.....running down your left cheek......and there it is.....the last blow.....the kill shot.....I am fractured into one trillion pieces.....

I watch you go through security......getting further and further away from me...smaller in image but larger in my heart.....I cling to the plastic partition to steady my broken soul....you keep looking back to see if I am there.....and I find myself telling you though you can't hear me "I'm HERE!  I am still here! I am waiting.....I'm here waiting......" And I think of this poem.....and I read it when I get home....and I think my waiting WILL indeed save you......

Wait for me and I'll return, only wait very hard.
Wait when you are filled with sorrow as you watch the yellow rain.
Wait when the wind sweeps the snowdrifts.
Wait in the sweltering heat.
Wait when others have stopped waiting, forgetting their yesterdays.
Wait even when from afar no letters come for you

Wait even when others are tired of waiting.

Wait for me and I'll return, but wait patiently.
Wait even when you are told you should forget.
Wait even when my mother and son think I am no more.
And when friends sit around the fire drinking to my memory
Wait and do not hurry to drink to my memory too.

Wait for me and I'll return defying every death.
And let those who do not wait say that I was lucky.
They will never understand that in the midst of death
You with your waiting saved me.
Only you and I will know how I survived: 
It was because you waited as no one else did.

-Konstantin Simonov


Just another day....in the life....of an unlikely military wife......**

(to INFINITY....for ETERNITY.....I am here waiting LEGS.....)

Dear LEGS: A FIRE......**

Dear LEGS
090312
Day 105

A MEMOIR:

"These violent delights have violent ends.....And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume....." -Shakespeare 

When I saw you again........I couldn't believe it was real.  Every time, every single time you walk away from me....I worry.....I worry and I think that I will never see you again.  I think that I will never see you again because our days spent, in one another's presence, is surreal.  Most of our days together I spend hours thinking.....thinking that I must have created this reality in my imagination.....this love....this kind of love, this kind of beauty doesn't exist in real life.......

I jump.  I jump high and I fall, I fall deep, very very deep in love with you every time I see you.....you always keep me falling for you.  Your love is relentless.......you haunt me.  You consistently and unyieldingly invade my heart, you capture it and force it to beat only for you.....you render my soul and purpose, and my mission in your service, my existence is in the service of worshipping you, your body, your mind, your thoughts, your soul.....and your legacy.....

When I see you my eyes have opened for the first time,  when I feel your touch my heart has been uncovered and freed from dust and stone and began to beat again, when you sit next to me my lungs, after a long frantic wait, have started to breath again...slow, steady, and natural...when you leave the sparks from the fire fall into my eyes blinding me, my heart is so empty it has no reason to beat, and my chest is bound, paralyzed, unable to rise and fall.....

Your silence, your quietness, all those wide open spaces.......I want to fill them with myself.....so I profess every single thought in my brain, every single admission of love, infatuation, and commitment.....every straying fantasy, guilty pleasure,  wrong or impure way of thinking.....like a devoted catholic to a priest during confession.  You take away all my burdens and with it the lines in my forehead.  No secrets....have ever existed on my behalf, or ever in the world.....

Next to you I have such a calm heart that if the doctors checked my pulse they would rule me dead......Your presence  is as steady as the crickets on summer night, your face boyishly handsome......and you smile, and you ponder, and you hold my hand.  You hold my heart and the power.  The power of good, and light, and peace.......and you let it out, you let it fall upon me and you keep none for yourself.......

Your hands are soft and sensitive, and secure and strong....when they touch me and I cry.....I cry because I can't believe it.....I can't believe that its true, that its pure....I feel filled up and full...overflowing with a liveliness, a mortality that I thought for sure was gone forevermore.  I have a richness and fullness......I am warm with rosie cheeks, teary blue eyes, and a parted mouth as if I have fallen asleep after a good cry, in a chair, in the middle of the afternoon....

Instead of a fire rumbling and roaring with anger inside of my own soul it reaches out through my finger tips, through my lips, and my eyes.......and consumes you......You have mastered the fire inside me allowing it to be alive and productive instead of wild and destructive......

I look up to the sky and breathe deep.  I am so thankful to be alive, to be here in this moment....and yet.....my happiness is flawed.....I know that my dear friends cannot feel this peace with me......and I ache for that collective comfort.....

My mind is tranquil enough to remember my dreams in the morning and my heart has a a restored faith.....though my fear of the silent but audible pain will make a return upon your departure.....with you next to me I miss you still.....I can never get enough, like the fire that consumes.....I can never consume all of you that I desire.....the fire burns consumes fire......

LOVE YOU TO INFINITY FOR ETERNITY- BIRDIE**

Just another day in the life of an unlikely military wife......**