There are two things about me which will be highlighted here. First, I don’t like pencils. You could try to look at the psychological side of it: the assumption with pencil is that you may be wrong and need to change it, and I don’t want to be wrong. I think I’m always right, so I don’t need to erase. There is also an element of flexibility by writing in pencil, and I am a lot of things before flexible. I’m not a psychologist, so maybe that’s not an accurate conclusion – and I’ve certainly never put THAT much thought into pencil vs pen. I just don’t like the way pencils feel in my hands. Normal pencils give me the chills when I hold them, and mechanical pencils give me the chills when the lead hits the paper. I’ve tried all kinds – don’t bother buying me any – I just don’t like them. I like pen. Not to mention I’m a little obsessive with my handwriting and it looks much better in pen than pencil.
The second thing to be learned about me is that I am a master of compartmentalization. If I didn’t just invent that word, it’s ok because I have perfected the meaning. I think I learned the art, whether this is a flaw or not, when I was younger and my dad was sick. I was able to compartmentalize all areas of my life and ignore aspects when necessary. This came up a few weeks ago when I was talking to a friend who was in the middle of a marital argument (a rather beefy one) but wasn’t going to be at a place to have a good conversation with her husband for a day or two. My advice was for her to force herself to mentally drop it for the time being, enjoy the rest of her day, and then discuss it the following day. “But how do you just DROP It without DROPPING it?” She asked. “Well…I don’t know…you just compartmentalize I guess…”
This skill came in handy the last few weeks of Austin’s deployment. I already knew I would have to put aside my thoughts/feelings/excitement about his return so that I could get through the holidays, and I knew that once he was home I’d have to put on a different hat and turn into stealth tax accountant for awhile. (I didn’t know that 10 hours after he got home I’d begin 12+ straight days of 12 hour work days…timing is everything…) But I had these compartments. I had a holiday box in my brain, a redeployment box, a year end tax provision box…and I was able to open and close them interchangeably as needed. I wasn’t prepared for another box, though, and this one threw me for a loop.
Write in pencil.
It’s a common phrase among military spouses – I may have mentioned it before. I wrote our Jamaica trip in pencil. I wrote his return date in pencil (3 times before giving up). Write in pencil. Why? Because whatever you write is going to change.
Austin has always had this dream of being in the Special Forces group in the army. It’s what he joined for. I’ve gone back and forth on it as it can put a large strain on families, but last year before this deployment started when we discussed reenlistment I decided that for the next 10 years I could give him this dream. I do not have a career aspiration like this, and part of me envies that he does. I only wish I knew what I wanted to do/be. So if he does, why not let him? Sure there’s the danger and the separation and the strain and loneliness – but we can do it, and there’s danger lurking around every corner. So – I said go for it. Let’s do it.
The trade off? He agreed upon retirement that if I wanted to stay in Colorado forever we could. The plan we came up with was for Austin’s Sergeant Major to work on getting him into the 10th Special Forces Group while he was deployed, which is located at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs. We knew we may be in Denver a little while in between his return home and before there would be a slot open down there, but that was ok with us. Once Brian moved up here I was even more sold on going down there. I’m pretty sure William wouldn’t mind either.
But, two weeks before Austin got home that plan was erased and a new plan was written. He was given orders to be a platoon sergeant at the Defense Language Institute (DLI) in Monterey, CA. This is likely the first you’ve heard of this. Why? Because I tucked it away in a compartment in my brain, not to be revisited until other compartments had rid themselves of their tangled webs.
I needed to manage the holidays. I needed to be excited and festive and make the holidays fantastic – not just for William, but for myself. Then I needed to get ready for Austin to come home. I needed to be sure I had cereal and foods he likes in the house, beer in the fridge, his motorcycle keys wrapped up. I needed to make it look like I didn’t live like a lazy slob-person the ENTIRE year. I needed to enjoy my last week of special bonding time with our son. Then, I needed to welcome him home. I needed to let the world pause for a brief moment and focus on nothing other than going to the airport. Then, much sooner than I had hoped, I needed to focus on work. I needed to focus on thinking about accounting for income taxes as much as humanly possible – and I know you are drooling with envy.
But, now that I have cleared out each of those compartments (the lovely tax one not done but nearing the end) I can begin to revisit the one that has been hiding. The one I tucked as far away as possible and talked about as little as possible. The one that I wished would just disappear.
I know that being in the military means moving around. I know that it’s rare that a soldier would stay at one duty station as long as Austin has been at Buckley (almost 6 years!) I know that it is also a gamble as to whether or not you will get the assignment you ask for. I know that.
I also know that I wanted to stay in Colorado. I wanted to wake up and see the mountains for 3…5…10…an unnumbered amount of years. I wanted to live 10 minutes away from my brother. I wanted to be able to control my own destiny. I have friends and contacts in Colorado. I know the state, I know the cities, I know the politics…I’m comfortable here. I wanted to stay here.
But, there’s a flip side to that. If the option of Colorado Springs were not staring me in the face, there aren’t many military places that would be more appealing than where we are going. Sure the job market is scarce and housing is outlandish, but it is one of the most beautiful places in California. And besides my wish to stay here, I honestly can’t think of a military post to which I’d rather go. We contemplated fighting it. We thought about going through the process of trying to get it deleted and make it disappear, but then we realized that we are actually pretty lucky in what we were given. I have no interest in going to Europe. I have no interest (anymore) in going to Australia. I have limited interest in going to Hawaii. Austin would have interest in Florida, and I could learn to like it – but besides that, the options for army bases are pretty unappealing. I absolutely have no interest in living in Killeen, TX or backwoods Louisiana or countless other Podunk towns. And I definitely don’t want to go to North Carolina where soldiers deploy like it’s going out of style. In fact, at DLI there are no deployments. There are no possibilities of deployments. For the entire time Austin is stationed there, our only chance for separation is if he gets sent to an Advanced Leadership Course, which is required upon his next promotion. Beyond that, he’ll be home. We’ll be home.
Home won’t mean 1245 S Flatrock Cir anymore, and that breaks my heart. I’ll be sad to move out of our first house, our first home together, but that would be the case no matter where we’d move. Home won’t mean seeing snow capped mountains 9 months out of the year. Home won’t mean I get to see Brian at least once a week. Home won’t mean what I have grown accustomed to and am very happy with. But, home is where the heart is and for me – my heart is with William and Austin.
So, as Ruth said:
Where you go, I will go, and where you stay I will stay.
Austin is my home, and if he is in Monterey, CA then I will learn to love it there too.
- manda
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