I can see clearly the path behind me, it's jagged turns and steep grades. The landscape it hacks through has been assimilated into myself, it is me, and I ran my way through it as I have every other stretch of rugged terrain that I have been required to navigate. Funny, the flat expanses of my life do not inspire me, they do not beg to be conquered. They are easy, and bland. I do not enjoy them. I do not adopt them as pieces of myself as maybe I should.
My husband is more than the cliche' of best friend. He truly is me, and I am him. When he is in pain, I am in pain. When I suffer, he suffers. Both our children seem to be acutely aware of the unique bond we have. When a swan was mourning over it's injured partner on the side of the road near our house, and refused to leave until days after it's partners death, in spite of being in immanent danger itself, my oldest son said, "Mom, Those swans are just like you and Dad!". Which is why when I was having success in the world of running, and Casey seemed, to the outside world, to be distant and reserved I was not hurt or offended. I could feel his private pain and suffering. I knew my success only made it more acute for him. He was mourning the end of his own athletic career, and was desperate for a new outlet.
When he suggested joining the Army, as if it were a joke (He was 33 and only one year from not being accepted any longer), I knew he was serious. I knew, because of who he was, that he would take it to the extreme, push himself to see what he could accomplish. We both love our challenges. The difference? I have a healthy fear of danger, Casey does not. I was worried, and rightfully so, the man is not just an adrenaline junkie and a work horse, but obsessed with succeeding at everything. He has never failed at anything. I also could feel how acutely he needed this, and I knew I must be supportive.
Over the next several months we talked to friends, did our research and when he decided not to in as an Officer, I urged him to go into Intelligence. It was safer. I should not have been surprised when he came home from Processing (where they finalize your enrollement) and said, "I'm going to be a Frogman! It's a Special Ops thing. I am going to be an Army Diver!" but I was. Now they had him, grrr. I pushed it out of my mind decided denial was the best route, and focused on preparing myself for his upcoming absence. There is no such thing as adequate preparation.
He left Dec. 28th. Dec. 27th my brother, a Harvard Law student, and I had a heated debate about the U.S. Military involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan after watching the movie Avatar (which I did not like). Needless to say there were a few illusions I needed to cling too to make through the next few days, and it was just not a good time to venture into liberal waters concering the US military. My poor husband, who is much more grounded than either my brother or myself calmed me down privately, "Annie, it doesn't matter. Patriotism is senseless, soldiers are the pawns of politicians. I am doing this for us, for me, and because I feel a sense of duty to earn my citizenship."
