I'M HERE - ALWAYS

I think I might have hit a wall this week - week 6 of my son's absence.

Perhaps it's the new school year and having my sweet girl move to "upper class man" status. Perhaps it's the onslaught of fundraisers and projects that come with each new school year. Perhaps it's the many plans we are making for Blake's graduation, ten day leave, and welcome-home party.

Whatever it is, I've hit the wall of worry and fatigue that comes from missing somebody who is embedded in your heart.

And so today, when I went to the mailbox for the fifth time - and I do mean FIFTH time - to see if the mailman had finally brought me a letter from my boy (I finally discovered he had not) I was brought down by a baby bird.

A baby bird conquered this recruit mama's heart.

It was a tiny little thing - that bird - no more than two inches tall and two inches long. So tiny it probably weighed no more than one of the maple leaves blowing in our tree nearby. This tiny bird was obviously where he wasn't supposed to be. He was in the middle of our driveway. In the sun. Out in the open. No shelter, no shade, no mama nearby.

And he stood still with his mouth open - yet silent - as though he were trying to call for help but had not quite learned how yet.

I came inside to get my camera but the pictures did not turn out. The sun was too bright, the bird was too tiny, and I suspect the mother was too close for me to approach; for I heard her. I heard the same trill coming from our tree. Over and over, the same pattern, the same call. Surely this sweet yet desperate call could only be that of a mother trying to lead her baby home.

I'm here. Here at home. I'm waiting for you. I'm here. Always.

And then I noticed that mixed in with the pleading call of the mother, was a tiny and plaintiff pattern from the baby.

I'm here. I'm here. I'm here and I don't know how to find you. Keep calling me. Keep calling me home.

I came inside to put the camera away (and to give my heart a break) and when I came back out - just a minute later - my tiny feathered worry was gone. The song of the mother was there but coming from a different tree. And the song sounded less sad, less desperate. I could not find the baby in the grass or under our shrubs.

Oh how I hope mama and baby were reunited. I hope somehow those minute wings of that baby bird were able to lift it into its nest where it belonged so that it could hide itself under its mama's wings and escape the hard cement of our driveway and the blazing heat of the sun.


I have one who has left the nest and one who will leave when I blink once, twice, three times.

The one who has gone? I know he misses me, but I don't think he's sad or lonely or scared. I think he is where he was meant to be; he and I both know it. And yet I still hope, with every letter I write him each night before bed, that he can hear my heart say to him "I'm here. Here at home. I'm waiting for you. I'm here. Always."

And the one who has one foot outside the nest? For now I wish I could put her under my wing and keep her out of the hardness and glaring heat of the world. And perhaps I can. But soon - too soon - I will be sending her off and my heart will be singing the same song:

"I'm here. Here at home. I'm waiting for you. I'm here."

Always.

A WHOLE NEW ALPHABET

As a Marine Recruit mom, I'm learning a lot of new things this summer.

I'm learning that, for some reason, I get a little nervous every time the phone rings.

I'm learning that I have a new fondness for our mail carrier and the words to "Please Mr. Postman" keep going through my head.

I'm learning that no news is good news.

And I'm learning lots and lots of alphabet soup. Letters we throw around now as easily as we used to say "formula, diapers, fever, homework, practice, curfew" are now part of our every day conversation as we watch the calendar and mark the days until our recruit is no longer a recruit but a Marine.

USMC

DEP

ASVAB

POOL-E

MEPS

PT

IST

PFT

IT

B-MED

MCRD

MCRD-SD

MCRD-PI

DI

SDI

MCMAP

and finally...EGA.

The EGA - Eagle, Globe and Anchor is the symbol for the United States Marine Corps. Recruits are officially Marines when they are handed their first EGA pin. They earn that at the end of boot camp after surviving the Crucible.

The Crucible is relatively new to Marine Corps Recruit Training - having been added in the 1980's. It is a 54 hour highly intense combat and team building exercise during which the recruits sleep four hours and get two meals.

Four hours sleep and two meals. In fifty four hours.


Those 54 hours are when they learn to depend on each other for success and survival. At the end of the Crucible they are given a Warriors Breakfast where they get to eat as much as they want and actually take time to taste the food.

And then they are given their first EGA.

E. G. A. I suspect in about ten weeks time, those letters are going to be some of the most profound of our son's life.

And mine too.

A DAY WITH MY GIRL

Thursday night I made a decree that the following day would be Girls Day Out for the W family.

LET IT BE KNOWN - IN THIS LAND AND ALL LANDS THAT MAY HEAR - THAT FRIDAY AUGUST 6 WILL BE A DAY OF ERRANDS AND SHOPPING FOR THE PRINCESS AND QUEEN OF THE W ESTATE. HE WHO OBJECTS (DADDY...) WILL BE SUBJECTED TO THE SMELL OF NAIL POLISH AND A DOUBLE SILENT TREATMENT FOR NO LESS THAN 24 HOURS.

So then.

We first headed to the Walmarts for essentials like nail polish, People Magazine, and donut holes.

We also picked up lettuce, fresh spinach, paper towels and toilet paper.

And, finally, we printed some photos from one of Kayla's summer softball tournaments. See, we had this disc that we got at the tournament and we finally got ourselves out there to choose photos and get them printed.

Now having me stand in front of the photo printers at the Walmarts is like putting me in front of the controls of the Space Shuttle. "oooh! What does this button do....?"

But Kayla knew what she was doing, even though she'd never used those printers before either.

Our troubles came, not from the printers, but from the crabby old woman who was also printing photos. It was obvious she had used the printers often and was quite adept at printing her photos, scanning her receipt and then heading to the counter to sigh deeply and tap her foot when a clerk wasn't available RIGHT NOW!!

She scooted in front of us to scan her receipt, violating every personal space law known to man. She hovered over our shoulders piercing the backs of our heads with disapproving looks as we made our selection and she waited on her order to be "completed soon." She stood behind us in line at the counter and let us know, telepathically, that she was not happy - not happy AT ALL - that we got there first. After all, it appeared she had printed nearly 200 pictures at different times that morning, while we printed a mere 17.

And then. Before I even received my change from the clerk, she stomped up to the counter, placed her pocketbook down, marking her territory, and kind of, like, slid me out of the way, making me fear I was going to receive an elbow to my left cheek if I didn't MOVE OVER NOW!! And she did all of this despite the fact that I had already inched myself as far down the counter as I could to make room for her. I was far enough away from the register by the end of my transaction that the clerk would have been better off tossing my change to me one coin at a time; rather than he and I having to stretch our arms equidistant so that could receive my 76 cents.

I kept looking around for a Personal Space Law Enforcement Agent (a PSLEA) but there was none to be found. And surely, if there is ever need for a PSLEA, it is at the Walmarts.

Am I wrong?

Please, Mr. Walmart, post a nice sign about personal space etiquette in your entry way. Or better yet, have your greeters say "Hello. Welcome to Walmart. Please remember to stay at least 36 inches away from your fellow shoppers at all times. Have a nice day."

Whew! Was it a relief to get out of there. But our enthusiasm was not to be dampened. We headed to Jo-Ann Fabric and bought some thread for friendship bracelets and baskets for my craft room.

Then before finishing off our day with a late lunch of Chinese food, we stopped in at the salon and got our eyebrows waxed. Because we cannot have such a pleasant day without punishing ourselves a little bit.

Balance is important, you know.