......the heart of a GIANT....**

021915
beloved LEGS....

.....maybe its a silly belief, but I have always felt that old people and very young people have many of the answers the rest of us seek about the world, about life......like they have some special ability to see into your soul, they see things the rest of us do not......

.....the first time I met Grandma Coussens I was struggling.....I was madly in love with you....foolish, young and dumb, still,  I was madly in love.....but I was fumbling with approval from your family.....they were so different from my family....so cold....and reserved.....

.....I suppose if she would have known how much we went against the grain of her Catholic beliefs she wouldn't have much liked me either.....but for some reason....I felt like she was the ONLY one I had on my side.....the only one that could see my heart was pure....and though my love for you was immature- it was real.......

.....a generation that I look up to very much is leaving us....Grandma Coussens is one that I often think of when I am sure that I just can't go on one more second during your frequent and long deployments.  A woman who was widowed in World War II, but managed despite the ultimate heartbreak to go on.....to find another, to have three children, to survive......and flourish....for many many years after being widowed a second time.....

....I don't even know the story of her first husband.  I only have these lighthearted imaginings of their story.  I picture a very young attractive couple, deeply in love, getting married before he was off to war.  I was once brave enough to ask her about him, but she burst into tears and I was left there to gather up the pieces feeling foolish for being so selfish.....I couldn't help but cry too.....because I felt how in love she was with him based on her reaction....and it resonated within my soul.....

...she raised three successful, genuine, men with good hearts.  Which in the end resulted in your existence......she has been a personal hero of mine, a pinnacle, a lighthouse, that I have used to guide and light my way as a military wife......

.....she has fed my stubborn streak, given me courage, and without ever knowing it, has motivated me to be honorable, pure and dedicated to you during times I could not believe were so hard.....

.....I know she has wanted to die for a very long time, and even though the last time we saw her, she looked absolutely miserable, when I think that she is going to leave this earth, I burst into uncontrollable tears and think to myself....my only Allie in the Coussens family is abandoning me....

....I met her toward the end of her life, so she doesn't even remember who I am.  I think I have only spoke to her in person a dozen times.  She has not earthly idea what she has meant to me in my life.....but that is just it.......

.....When your life is so extraordinary, heroic, and significant......your probably so busy surviving that you don't even realize others are looking to you......for the answers, for the map, to guide the way.....

Her message, her story, will not die with her, it will live on through me, and through our children.  They will know that during the hardest, heart wrenching, gutting times of my entire life, there was a small fragile old lady who lived with the heart of a giant, who I believe recognized TRUE LOVE when she saw it, who survived, inspired, and instilled the greatest lesson in life, which is to NEVER GIVE UP.

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

....time travel....**

010115
beloved LEGS....

....its new years day and we are traveling back in time.....

....every time I lay my eyes upon your face, run them across your chest and down to your toes....I think I cannot be lucky enough to be married to this handsome, sexy, man....

I wake up from a nap on the airplane, my mouth is dry like cotton, you smile at me and kiss me and then I look down to see water that you ordered for me while I was sleeping.  I know it seems like something small, but if I had been traveling alone, which happens a lot when you are away, I would have slept through the drink service, I would be sitting next to some stranger who doesn't even know we are still in Afghanistan, and suffering through dehydration.  To have this small, careful, compassionate gesture, is a luxury, it is  as rich as flying first class on a private jet....

....I wake up again and you are holding my hand.  My heart smiles and I drift back off to sleep...

TWENTY SEVEN TREACHEROUS HOURS of time travel and you still make me laugh, give me comfort, watch over me, watch over our things, I think its the funniest trip we have ever made.

At the moment we are jammed on a flight full of military members headed to Alaska.  They all have that war torn look about them, the insignia on their sweatshirts or camo backpacks, the sound of dip cans being packed, and curse words being sprinkled in normal conversations....a lot of times I feel like Alaska isn't my home any more, but, on this flight I feel as if, I am reunited with my people, and we are all going. HOME....

I can't stop looking at you, even in your most unattractive, overly tired, zombie like travel sleep position,  mouth open, head cocked back, I still look at you in awe.  I look at you not believing you made it back, not believing I am so lucky, tears well in my eyes....because I can hardly take it......the gratitude in my heart, for you and for all these soldiers....

....and still there are moments when our separation is apparent, a hitch in our flow, a break in communication, a momentary aggravation, but as a seasoned military couple- we lock eyes and we just know, its because we are both used to being alone, we are both used to being in charge....

....in Zurich at passport control, as we moved up the line, I looked over to you to retrieve our passports, I saw you frantically searching through your bag for our passports but coming up short, I started to get frustrated that you hadn't yet found them, when we were called up to the counter you were still rifling through your bag, my irritation must have been apparent and your panic was definitely so, because the passport control officer asked us if everything was alright.  We both laughed and I explained to her that we had both been separated a long time and we are learning to work together as a team.....she looked amused and we were clear to proceed.....

....its amazing how anonymous we can be through out life....in airports I always think none of us know any of us, where we have been, where we are going, what we have been through, though, I feel like telling all of them, that you made it back, that to me you are a hero, especially when we land in the United States....

... I suppose there were a few instances in which our military status mattered, we were able to cut through the security line (not without being challenged) , we were able to board the plane first, its not lost on me to an average civilian this is a huge gesture of appreciation, the grumbles and sour looks indicate this is so....but....when I think of the painful burdens you carry, the hardship we endure....the gesture is miniscule.....

...the thought of leaving you, letting you out of my sight, to run and use the restroom, to conquer and divide, sets off a deep rooted panic....and I stop breathing until we are together again, when I see you, when the back of your head is in my view, or your walking back from where you were, or when I hurry around the corner and see you sitting there....I feel the same elation I felt the day you came home, like a child on Christmas morning, sweet sixteen with a new car, a young bride on her wedding day....its a beautiful gift, every moment I have with you....

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

....limbo....**

122714
beloved LEGS....

.....I don't know why, but I feel like going for a run today....I just feel like I need to go out there and be free.....be in a wide open space....so all of me can be as big as I feel.....I try to convince you to join me but you want to strum on your guitar....we discuss whether or not my running is as a result of my compulsion to weigh a certain amount, or an unhealthy compulsion to exercise so much.....but in the end I convince you its just because I feel like it.....still....its hard for me to actually leave you.....

....I tell myself its okay for us to be separate of each other.  So I head out.  It gives me time to think.  To daydream.  To process this whirlwind I've been in.  I feel like I have been so out of control, so dizzy and in delirious haze.....I need to breathe in the fresh air and get a firm grasp on my wits about me....

.....I remember Mariannae running even with her bad knees up the hill to our house when she first saw you.....tears in her eyes out of breath to welcome you home....and tell you how happy she is you made it back in good condition.....I later asked you how you felt when she did that.....as she nearly killed herself to get to you.....

You said "I don't like to be welcomed and thanked, I just want it to be routine like we used to be."

I smile to myself because I hope secretly you realize that.....we could never be who we were....and it will never be like it was.......

I imagine that.....if I believed in Heaven and Hell, if I believed in LIMBO the only thing in life that would be similar is when these men come back from war.  To leave a hellish place only to return to where things are shiny, alive, clean, warm and loving....to accept this is where you are now, to believe that its true....its a bizarre sort of middle ground......

It must be sort of like a LIMBO.  That transition.  The time in between.  I feel as if I am in a LIMBO as well.  Amidst the holidays, before a month long trip, a homecoming....and my decision to leave the sport of boxing.

People look at me like I am making a mistake when I tell them.  In order to pursue my Olympic aspirations I would have been away preparing for competition when you came home from Afghanistan.  I try to explain that......having you return from war to nothing is not something I could ever forgive myself for.  I married you before boxing was ever in the picture.  Giving up a soul crushing sport in the name of love, to me, is a worthy and noble reason.

I have nothing left to prove to anyone.  I was an Elite Female Boxer who entered the ring with the best in the world.  Gold Medal, Olympic dreams accomplished or not.....would mean nothing on the podium next to TRUE LOVE.

And even when I try to tell people what I did, or explain why I stopped....they just don't understand....

.....its at this point in my run where, I start to panic.  My legs and feet won't cooperate with my heart and soul.  Its at this moment where, I cannot move as fast or as deeply as I want to be next to you again......its been too long and its only been minutes......

....I think that....if we live through this....we will never look back.....there is nothing left for us there....still I can't help but feel we are running to the edge of a boundary....and I don't know what it looks like past that point....

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