Tuesday, April 22, 2008
What is picked up and what got left behind...
Monday was a good day, my foot was bad but better, my attitude positive and work went well for such a small crew. There are rumbles of things getting done. I went home and didn't turn on the computer, I already knew what was in the email and could answer it later. So I spent time with self, thoughts and worn wife watching wrestling. Wondering if the Divas get the same pay scale as the male wrestlers. She slips gently to sleep so softly snoring. I get the dishwasher loaded and soaped up then push us off to bed and better sleep under downy comforters - such little old people.
Dreams of military and large family and I get so much younger there, a celebration and a toast - and my parents disapprove of my using water to toast with - so I decide to show everyone what a drunk I can be after toasting with wine and then pouring much more alcohol upon it. I woke, because that was so not my parents, not me and definitely so young - but I did recognize that fool drinking to drunk to prove something, he was destroyed somewhere along my way.
I take my morning medications (I take everything at once - short memory) and putter around making coffee and weighing self and taking blood pressure. Then I start to unload the dishwasher and put stuff away, I could leave it for my wife - some of the stuff only she knows where it goes - but I have time and will like being thanked for it later. I notice the strange spoons, not part of the sets we have been given or we purchased, not belonging but with our stuff now. As I do coffee cups I notice the variety and the marking from different places and times far away and so long ago. Even from Grandmother's after I returned from Vietnam, but I think professional military types pick up coffee and beer mugs along with strange ways of looking at life. I know I drank lots of hot tea with honey and lemon from the beer mugs - not being a beer drinker, not being an alcohol drinker at all most of my life.
I sent my first HERO mug from McNeil Island to my son in Iraq, he complained about lack of ceramic mug for coffee - or what the Navy says is coffee. I got myself another later, I liked helping the war effort and it was just another item he could leave behind as he packed out to return to normalacy, if one ever does. We leave a lot behind, moving quickly between postings and operations and deployments and detachments. We miss some of our loved one's best moments, we are there for the other times, and it is like that dance sometimes too close and sometimes too far away, but we dance and leave behind a touch, a look and make a memory.