I haven't had a whiny, moody blog entry in awhile and I feel like doing one this morning. I'm just homesick today. I miss my sister. And my parents. And Lincoln and Paul. And Sharon. And softball. And tulips coming up from the ground. And the smell of snow melting. And the sight of grass growing. And the thrill of being able to be outside without a coat for the first time in four or five months. I miss my friends. I miss being able to talk to everyone when I want to, without having to factor in five hours of time zones.
It's an accumulation of a couple of things. The first thing actually happened in Australia. I was writing a postcard to my parents. As I was writing it I started to write about how I had taken a ton of photos and then I started to write something to the effect of, "We'll have to have a Sunday Dinner when I get back so I can show them to you." You see, back in MN, my folks, Megan and Paul (and Lincoln) and I would get together for supper maybe once or twice on month. And when I was writing the postcard, for a moment, it didn't even dawn on me that I'd be returning "home" to Hawaii, and not "home" to MN.
Once I realized what I was writing, I crossed it out and made it into some sort of statement about getting together on a Sunday via webcam and Skype. But I was surprised that even though I've been in Hawaii for more than six months, my subconscious brain thought I was going "home" home. As I thought about it, I realized that I had no idea when I'd be going back to MN again, to see people. To tell them, in person, what's going on. I've never gone on a vacation where I didn't come home and show my friends and family photos or get together to tell them about what all I had done.
What else? One of the guys Zac works with is going IA. (Individual Augment.) In crass terms it mean that they spend a year playing 'soldier' in Iraq or Afghanistan. The Army guys are getting worn out and they've been training and cycling in Navy guys to help relieve some of that stress. They call it "boots on the ground." Sometimes IA is voluntary, sometimes it isn't. The guy Zac works with volunteered for an IA, so it didn't come as a total surprise when they called him up to tell him he's going to be leaving in May. Zac's coworker is married. No kids. I know his wife and like her a lot. We have quite a few things in common. And I like to think I can sympathize with some of the feelings she's experiencing right now. There's that rational part of your brain fighting against your emotional part.
What does this have to do with me? Well, Zac and I were talking about this last night. About IAs, sailors, spouses, the person who stays, the person who goes. The whole conversation just reminded me that while I love my husband, I don't love the military life. Not one bit. I'm not ashamed to say that and I'd say it in person if you asked. I respect and admire our service members and their families for what they do, but this is not the life I would chose for myself or my future children if I was just picking off a list. If I could have Zac without the Navy I would do it in a heartbeat. The only reason, the only reason, I'm here on this island is because I love Zac. Talking about it made me think about the constant state of the unknown that comes with this life. And it made me really miss the "known".
I talked to Megan yesterday on the phone too. I heard about all the stuff I'm missing with Lincoln, with softball. I used to be at her house practically every other day. During softball I'd see her every day. Now it's a phone call once a week or so. Not as good as sitting on her couch eating ice cream with her and Paul. And I got an e-mail from Mom this morning talking about tulips coming up in the garden, her work, Easter dinner plans, normal "known" stuff. Combine that with a gloomy, gray sky today and it adds up to a blue morning. Luckily Bernadette is coming over in a few minutes so we can go watch a friend compete in a bowling tournament. And hey, who doesn't love bowling?