...Reindeer Games Part II...

07MAR2010

There are a few last minute boxes to check; more training, more reindeer games, more hurry up and wait. Oh well, life goes on. The unit we’re replacing is showing us the ropes, equipment stuff, route stuff. So far, the most useful thing they’ve shown me is Starbucks, all else will fall into place. You must, by now, imagine I’m a Starbucks spokesperson. I’m not. I just like coffee and central air.

We’ve already spent some good time playing out in the sand. It’s only been a few days but the routine of deployment has already begun to chip away at the memory of life lived back home. It’s easier now to remember my stories of Iraq than Boca Raton. I have so many more ‘for examples’ now when my soldiers ask me ‘what if’ questions. I bored them for over an hour last night when I put them to bed with an ‘I remember when fairy tale’.

I’ve thought of my ex-wife a lot too. We were married ‘back when I remember’. The divorce came just a short while after that deployment ended. We walked away from each other for a great many reasons, mainly though, I imagine, we were far too young. I don’t hate her, or have any other obnoxious resentment towards her you’d expect from a fallen marriage. I love her still, and hope she is well. This place simply reminds me of a time when we were together, and I could expect mail from her daily. And I catch myself thinking now, “huh, where’s today’s letter from Becky?”

I’ve been looking around for old friends too, soldiers who, I know, have left Uncle Sam’s Army a while back. Like calling out to a familiar face at a grocery store, only to be met by a stranger’s reply. All these memories, the old faces and sights and sounds, the routine of being the soldier version of myself, they have all lead to one unexpected—clearly an understatement—conclusion: I have missed this place. And the civilian version of me thinks, “…I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely…”

There are those thoughts of home I have yet to place on the backburner of my mind. I miss my dog. And I worry he’s being fed too much. I miss nights on the sailboat and kicking off my mornings with vodka in tomato juice. I miss the look of a scruffy beard when I catch myself in the mirror. Mainly though, I miss the idea of Holiday, and living in a constant state of calm; the half grin smiles I bare when the best joys of life walks beside me.

I wish I could say I’ll miss them all the same tomorrow, and the next day. But I won’t. I’m cursed, or blessed, with the gift of foresight this time around. The longer I am here, the more here I will be. And, I imagine, it won’t take long at all. When I go back to New York months from now on leave, I’m sure I’ll catch myself thinking, “Oh, this is Holiday…”. But, oh well, life goes on. I know that when I finally go home, no matter where my mind is, my dog—probably obese by then—will remember me, and he’ll be happy to play fetch.

- The Exodus