A Long Time Gone
Four years ago today was my first day of boot camp. Shortly after I got off the bus and made my tearful one-minute call home someone in a uniform asked me if I played a musical instrument. I thought awhile before answering. I did play an instrument and after a stint in a Chicago music school I could play it well but I was stuck on the idea that boot camp was supposed to be new and foreign in an exciting way. My independence made me resistant but it only took about 8 seconds before I caved and confessed and ended up in the band division. Division 921. It was a tremendous comfort. The smell of valve oil and the sound of instrument cases opening and shutting were so familiar. We were nerds, all of us. I was with my people.
I have a dear friend who I affectionately call My Sailing Connection. We went to A-School together and spent every lunch eating luscious sandwiches made by a very fat man and energetically bickering over politics. He once asked me about my enlistment, "If you could, would you unsign your name?" I told him that I didn't know.
Today is Sunday and I'm stuck at work without the smell of valve oil or anything that reminds me of my life before I joined. I have some friends at work, but they're not the witty and imaginative artists and performers that I left behind. Although, to be fair, I have met some along the way. The truth is that those women fed my soul and that I miss Chicago so much I just started to cry as I was thinking about it. I know I'm not going back. What I have been granted in exchange is an education I never would have had, an empathy for people of most all backgrounds (I still can't come to terms with some of the freaks), free money to continue my formal education, access to low-interest home loans, stronger leadership skills, and a fondness of country music.
I still don't know if I would unsign my name.
I have a dear friend who I affectionately call My Sailing Connection. We went to A-School together and spent every lunch eating luscious sandwiches made by a very fat man and energetically bickering over politics. He once asked me about my enlistment, "If you could, would you unsign your name?" I told him that I didn't know.
Today is Sunday and I'm stuck at work without the smell of valve oil or anything that reminds me of my life before I joined. I have some friends at work, but they're not the witty and imaginative artists and performers that I left behind. Although, to be fair, I have met some along the way. The truth is that those women fed my soul and that I miss Chicago so much I just started to cry as I was thinking about it. I know I'm not going back. What I have been granted in exchange is an education I never would have had, an empathy for people of most all backgrounds (I still can't come to terms with some of the freaks), free money to continue my formal education, access to low-interest home loans, stronger leadership skills, and a fondness of country music.
I still don't know if I would unsign my name.
posted by Jessica at 08:42
4 Comments:
My Dad died of the most aggressive type of lung cancer. The fact that he suffered did not make it fast enough. And he quit 10 years before his diagnosis. It still came back to haunt his health. We were expecting for him to outlive his grandkids because he was so strong and healthy. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. How do I store my dpns? Someone on KnitList shared the idea of a 99 cent Home Depot apron. You sew as many pocket slots as you want...it's the perfect size for dpns.
Thank you so much for the kind note. I still haven't had the courage to call him. I'm going to have to tackle that some time this week.
And thank you for the dpn storage tip. I've got a ton of muslin in the closet (for a brief and unrealistic moment I thought I was going to sew my own wedding dress). I think I'll just use that to sew something up.
sometimes i feel the same way about getting married, moving, and saying a general "peace out" to my former life.
it's not really the same, but i get what you are saying.
good luck on calling your dad. i have complete faith in your strength as a person and i know that you will be able to make peace with this.
how does coffe sound this week?
Coffee sounds awesome. Tonight is out and Thursday is knitting, but any other time would be lovely. Just let me know.
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