First Warm Day In May

Time Travel

Ten Years Too Late

“Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there.” ~Otomo No Yakamochi

Do you ever find yourself listening to a song and memories of a place or time come flooding into your mind? Sometimes the memory is so vivid you can almost smell it, touch it, taste the air… want to reach out and touch the people or person you are with… say something you meant to say but did not. I do not want to sound as though I lay awake at night fighting demons of regrets. I have other demons I fight at night and they have little to do with regrets… but my anxiety and constant analysis of every conversation of the day have nothing to do with this post. I made the choices that I felt were best for me at the time I made them, not always fully thought through or analyzed sometimes just purely instinctual for better or worse; I tried to live in my moment.

Isn’t that what you are supposed to do? Live in the moment?

Then why is it that sometimes a song, sometimes not even a song remotely connected to that moment brings the whole moment back again? So fresh and new… the closest to time travel man may ever get. In just the span of a twinkling of a star you would have done anything to maybe change that instant to throw open the gates and lay bare your soul, or shut your mouth any remain silent, or perhaps kiss that person you wanted to and never did... the list of possibilities are as endless as the individuals out there that many read this. (All 10 of my readers…)

Tonight love haunts me… a lost chance, an instant passed before I could stop it. Youth in all its glory and obliviousness but bounded in insecurity and arrogance at times causes you to make a choice in your moment that given proper thought and consideration you would do differently; or just given age and perspective. They say time heals all wounds; in this case time has only deepened this wound.

I have been so vulnerable with you my beloved readers recently I will tell you this tale, my fairy tale, as un-lengthy as possible. I will throw open the gates and lay bare my soul in hopes that the light of day will shine in and perhaps heal what will never be… and maybe, just maybe I will learn to believe in fairy tales again.

There is a man, who lives far away from me… as in an ocean away. We met by chance; complete fluke, discussing the events and political ramifications of September 11^th… on September 12^th, 2001. Somehow what started as a simple discussion that broadened my horizons beyond America and helped me see the world in a bigger picture became a full on enchanted relationship. It seemed so amazing at the time; so unbelievable; so crazy. In fact as my mother and I waited for him to arrive at the airport that Christmas to visit I recall looking at her and asking if I was insane. She told me that I perhaps was, but sometimes magic is found in insanity.

Then there he was. His accent, his eyes and the way they crinkled when he smiled, his easy nature and quick wit made my stomach repeatedly drop through the floor. He was a gentleman like I had never known, and have not known since. The truth was he terrified me; in all the best and scary ways. I was barely 21 and I had only had my crappy relationships… I did not know what to do with this Prince Charming.

I went to see him, in his country, stayed in his home. Fell head over heels for a place I do not live, and standing on a hillside watching a train pass in the distance and the sea beyond I knew love for the first time. Real honest love… pure and simple, easy and whole… then I felt the gates slam shut and my heart scream at my mind. My mind was right though… love had only ever meant hurt both emotional and sadly in some cases physical.

This was a man standing next to me, not the boys I had dated before. A man, full of confidence and goals; he radiated assurance and safety. He was so foreign to me and so far from everything I knew and was comfortable with. The entire time I was there in March/April of 2002 I battled with myself to the point of exhaustion. The adult thing to do of course would be to discuss this with him. I look back now when a song trips the memories and realize at 21 we are still such children… at least I was.

As he stood with me in line at the checkpoint for outgoing international flights, I felt I might explode. Split in half straight down the center. My heart screaming to turn to him and kiss him full on, with all the passion in heart everything I felt and tell him I was not going to leave. I would stay with him, follow him wherever he might go, that his path would be mine. My brain reminding me of all my responsibilities at home, the results of such a decision, the pain my family would feel… The risk, more than anything the risk and so with a hesitant hand and the briefest of pauses and small glance in his direction I handed my passport over to the agent. I walked away. If I have any regrets in this life, it was that walk… that lost moment, chance.

The long flight home locked those gates tighter and tighter and at home it got harder and harder to shut off my mind and my fears. So I hurt him. I hurt him like I have never hurt anyone. I behaved as a child and turned away without as much as a whisper.

A decade has passed and I went back to see him. Hoping that some magic was still there; that somehow the old adage held true: “If you love something let it go, if it returns to you it is yours forever.” The thing that adage does not tell you is what happens if the person who let you go is no longer waiting when you come back.

We are great friends. In fact he may be one of the greatest friends I have ever known he has rescued me in true Princely fashion more than once. I can say truthfully I love him in more ways than he may ever know or understand. I laid my soul, my heart, my fears, my hopes at his feet on this last visit. A decade of change between the two of us and that hurt, that insurmountable hurt like an elephant in the room. I cannot tell you if it is better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all. I think I hold to the ignorance is bliss policy a bit more. I wonder now sometimes when I travel back if love knocks twice… if real love, like I felt and have felt for so long comes around again. Do you get a second chance at it? Or do you just settle for something that resembles it the best?

If he had asked me to stay, this last time, I would have without any hesitation or second guessing because I know now it is okay to love and allow yourself to be loved… ten years too late.

love always ~a

 

Just one of the many that pulls me back, time travel.

Hero

1802

This Friday night will likely resemble most Friday nights; me sifting through the many social events I have been asked to attend and trying to decide which one is the best choice based on a variety of considerations, my parents bickering over which show to watch or whether it is a re-run, the dogs barking at the slightest hint of someone breathing four miles away…. But something will be different. Life as we have known it for going on half a lifetime will have changed.

Sure we will go about our duties and motions as we have always but a piece of the picture will be somewhere else. His Lordship is leaving us; no big deal right? He has left before it is not like he does not know his way home. This leave though, will change him and when he comes home… well my heart aches at what to expect. I cannot write about him or my family directly upon their requests so let me say this introduction is about life in general and the rest will be about my thoughts and feelings on the matter.
I am angry. Though not the first emotion I felt it has remained the constant. I am angry that my country is sending my brother or for that matter anyone’s brothers off to a war that has become redundant, unfocused, and unwinnable. There is no outcome that I can see where either side wins. Truthfully though, in war does anyone win? Is it not all such a waste of effort, time, and life?

Students of history will recognize almost a mirror image of the current war with the one our parents fought. Afghanistan is our generation’s Vietnam. Upon entry to the country I concede our intentions were well placed and perhaps good. The waters muddied when we split our fronts to invade Iraq for no other reason that a pack of propaganda and vanity. We left the Afghan front terribly marginalized and to our detriment have created a quagmire. Another lesson already taught in history… but apparently unlearned by some of the supposedly greatest minds in our land. I think perhaps what has happened is, the greatest minds, now realize that politics are a waste of their great mind’s usage.

I am selfish and prideful. How much of a jerk do I have to be to cry tears over this when so many have sacrificed and many sacrificed more than once and I quibble over the first call to duty? So many of my friends, now wives and mothers, have sent their husbands off to multiple deployments and if it was killing them inside I rarely saw it, knew it, or heard them speak of it. Naturally I had a couple closer to me than others and did get more of an inside view. Even that I find, did not prepare me for the roller coaster my family has ridden since we found out. I suppose every family has their journey own based on their individual dynamics and relationships; we all must endure this ride the best we can for “God and country” as they say.

I am proud. My brother is brave, but not overly so, courageous is a better word. He has grown into this man I do not know so well; a man I can be proud of. A man we can all be proud of. Despite your opinion or my opinion of the “cause” he is willing to go and face a foe that is often faceless and does not play by the same “rules” we know. He is prepared to face the horrors of war, the real not CGI or fake horrors of Hollywood, but the real life in your face horrors of war. Things he will never speak of, that will change him as a person and I pray help him become a better man. My brother is a man you can all be honored to know serves your country; strong, full of conviction, patriotic, driven, all American…. Loves baseball and barbeque, a good burger or his momma’s spaghetti, and he is fiercely proud of his heritage as a Scot Irish American with a strong history of soldiers. He has not even left the house yet, but he is already a Hero.



May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

God bless and God’s speed to my brother and all the men and women he travels with.

always ~a

Kony...

I realize this is part 2... but I wasn't really doing videos when I first heard about this movement.  I feel I should share with you.  As human beings we should all give a shit about our futures; about the world's future.  We are going to pass our world to our children... how do you want to give it to them?

Snarky Out Takes

Finally got the out takes video done!  Learned a lot about Movie Maker with this one!  Let me know what you think of my goofiness... Working on a blog entry... almost done with it... but I do not think I will get that up tonight.  Please enjoy these it makes me laugh at myself, and that feels good!

always,

a

stand where I stood...

The roller coaster of my life... and its soundtrack continue.  Could any of us really stand where someone else "stood"?  Would we understand each other better if we could see things through another's eyes?  Or would we still think the situation is still the same?  Thoughts?

Number on the Tag

This one has a good point... but I am not really sure about it.  Sweet Tea and baby Jesus just not sure... Let me know... if am I scaring people off... And that screen cap it AMAZING; I look as though I should be drooling!