Family Matters and Happy New Year!

2012 was an incredible year for my family in a way we could have never expected. As time passes, we've lost relatives we've loved and the family numbers have declined. The "youngens" haven't reproduced yet and are still the babies, even though we're all around 30 years old. (Don't pressure us!) But that was all about to change. 

One afternoon I got the strangest call from both of my parents on speakerphone. Dad said "Your Grandma has a secret, and you'll never guess what it is." What I learned that day has been, and will always be, one of the most amazing days in the history of my family. 

Grandma told the story in a letter she sent out with her Christmas cards and I thought it would be neat to relay it in her words:

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Once upon a time, there was a handsome Second Lieutenant in the U.S. Army Air Corps. His name was Jack Lewis Oliver. After receiving his wings, he went home to Onawa, Iowa to visit his parents. 

As fate would have it, a student at Morningside College in Sioux City went home with her roommate to Onawa for the weekend. Her name was Jean Louis Arends. She met the handsome second Lieutentant and it was love at first sight for both of them. 

The next few months were taken up with trying to spend time with each other and ended with an announcement of their engagement and orders for Jack to join the other pilots in the Pacific. 

Jean traveled with her sister to Oakland, CA to be as close as possible to her fiancé but then she realized she was pregant!?!?! Jack was in the Pacific and couldn't return (but he wrote every day.) They decided she would have the baby and adopt it out. 

And so she did! Remember, this was 1943-1944 and Jean's father was a minister! The shame! The papers were signed and the cute little baby disappeared. Jack served in the Pacific, returning to Jean in 1946 and they were married by her father on May 2, 1946. 

66 years later, the cute little baby wrote a letter to her biological mother, Jean, and they were magically reunited. All was joy and jubiliation, except that the handsome Lt. had died and never saw his oldest daugther. But Jean has now been given a second chance with her first daughter, Marilyn Jean, son-in-law, Joel, two grandsons, Mark and Craig and their wives, and four great-grandchildren. What happiness! Jean is delighted to see her cute, little baby grown up, and Marilyn is happy to have found her mother, two fully biological siblings, and learn why she is allergic to sulfa (and other genetic information she should know.)

So, 2012 was a great year and will add so much to our holiday celebrations! We doubled the number of our family members and couldn't be happier!

May your Christmas also be twice as happy (maybe not in the same way) but we all send you our best wishes for a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! 

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I am still in shock! To think I have a new aunt, a new uncle and two new cousins with wives and kids of their own! And my dad and aunt have a full-blooded older sister. What's even more amazing is that they all live within two hours from each other. I am so excited to finally get to meet everyone on one of my return trips to California. This truly will always be a year that will go down in family history. Our tree is looking mighty healthy and full. 

The Lord may taketh away ... but he also giveth!

I will never forget that. 

Something to count on

Wow. One thing I've learned in life is the only certainty is the passage of time. Without fail, you can always count on it to continue on ... as it always has and as it always will.

It's been awhile since I last updated, but life has certainly kept me busy and time has certainly passed.

I have successfully moved to the Pacific Northwest and now reside on a small island across a bridge from Seattle. It's a wonderful city and I have grown quite fond of my new home. The weather is currently challenging my patience, but dull it is not!

Before moving here we lost my Papa to heart failure, a few months shy of his 80th birthday. I was, and still am, devastated. The rug was swept out from under me. It happened the week before I was due to move but I was so fortunate to join my family in Savannah for his service. I still tear up when remembering he's no longer with us. We were so much alike and I adored him. And I miss him.

But to counterbalance the ache of loss in my heart, I had so much to gain just ahead of me. My husband returned home from deployment in October and after 7 months apart we were finally living under one roof again. He was home for all of the important winter holidays and we stayed busy making up for time spent apart and exploring our new residence. It was a wonderful two months.

And now January is here and my husband is off saving the world again, this time in warmer waters. I'm holding down the icy fort and preparing to get us through what's sure to be a complicated tax season. A winter storm advisory is in effect and I'm wondering what the next few days have planned. My good friend is flying in for a visit during the heart of the storm, so there is potential for quite an adventure. More than anything, I am really looking forward to the company. It's amazing how prone to reclusivity (that's definitely a word) I am after a few days alone.

I have worked hard to fill my calendar with distractions while I wait for Neil to return home again and now I have much to look forward to. Updating this blog consistently will hopefully be included in that.




In other news, I'm running. I have new running shoes and I'm running. I never saw that one coming.

Stress fracture

I am in such an emotionally charged place in my life right now, and I'm not the best one for handling the task.

I don't do emotions. At least I subconsciously try not to. Emotions tend to make others around you uncomfortable and they also draw attention to yourself ... I like neither of those results. I think I got good at suppressing my feelings growing up because I knew a weak, crying, shy, new kid would never make friends.

20 years later, here I am as an adult. A master of the emotional pass-off. But trust me, when it seems I'm smiling during a particularly stressful time, I'm really imploding on the inside.

So here I am, 36 hours away from an invasion of movers in my house; here to pack my life into cardboard boxes and haul it away from my comfort zone.

I'm determined to be successful and to continue seeing the bright side through this, despite the tsunami of loneliness I feel. I'll survive. Although I never saw the day coming when being in my home would cause me more anxiety than a day in the office.

I can only hope the process moves quickly. I hear if you just rip the bandaid off you don't cry.

If you only had a month ...

We are officially one month away from my drive to Seattle. From the day I leave my life as I know it behind me and head towards the great unknown. I'm very excited but very nervous. I haven't allowed myself to focus on the unbearably sad parts. I'm not ready yet and I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to dwell on that when I'm alone in my new(ish) city.

I'm so glad mom is driving up with me. I think spending those days driving and the first few days in Seattle with her will really help me transition. But that Monday, when I have to drop her off at the airport and say goodbye ... I'm really not sure how I'm going to make it back home. Hopefully the movers will have shown up and I will be able to bury myself in tasks to get our place ready for Neil's homecoming.

Yeah. The countdown has begun. I may have moved several times in my life, but this one is a first. This is the first time my parents are the ones getting smaller in my rear view.

Hoarder no more

I had a yard sale last weekend to rid myself of the clutter we've accumulated over the past several years together. We're downsizing to a much smaller space so the unnecessary items had to take a hike. It's weird because we feel we're starting over. Like we're fresh out of high school and trying to make it on our own. Who would have thought this new life would seem more like a regression than a "promotion." I'm sure one day the tables will turn.

But our clutter ended up translating to a fat wad of cash from the sale. My aunt and parents came over really early to help me haggle with people, although my primary mantra was "everything for a $1." You'd be surprised how even a dollar wasn't low enough for some people. I had to nicely tell a few to get lost.

The success of the yard sale will pay for the road trip mom and I are about to take up to Seattle. I won't be able to get my moving allowance ahead of time since Neil already technically moved, so this will hold me over until I can be reimbursed by the guvment.

I can't believe the movers will be here in one month. Slowly but surely this is happening. One day at a time.

Absence

I knew how hard dealing with deployment would be when we agreed to this. I'm not a complete stranger to military life. I knew deep down it would be the most difficult thing I'd have to endure to date; the absence of the one my heart belongs to. But I don't think I really realized the magnitude. Or what a roller coaster it would be.

I hate feeling insecure. It took me years to build the confidence I have now, but this new life is doing its best to break me down. I won't let it, of course, but I'd rather not let it effect me quite so much.

I'm sure it takes years of practice to be comfortable with the distance, for it to get even a little bit easier. But this year has been rough. To go from being attached to someone's hip to having more freedom than I'm comfortable handling ... it's suffocating, ironically.

And on days like today, when he's supposed to call but can't or doesn't ... when I've been waiting two weeks just to hear the sound of his voice ... it wears me down. It's all I can do to remind myself it's because he can't call, not because he doesn't want to. Such stupid feelings. Such sadness. The ramblings of an insanely lonely woman. As much as the move ahead scares me, October can't get here soon enough.
I want my family back.

The Leap

Things are starting to happen, and not happen, and it's getting more and more difficult for me to articulate exactly how I'm feeling. I never knew it was possible for time to freeze yet also speed by in a blur. But it's happening. And sooner or later I'll have to face my leap of Faith.

Neil is out and about with the ship, tempting the raging Alaskan seas. I'm at home getting our personal things in order. Attempts to secure my employment in remote status aren't as stable as I was hoping; let's just say I'm not placing bets. But at this point I'm not losing sleep over any decision that's made. They have a month to figure it out and any aftermath will no longer be my concern.

Our first home will soon become a rental and I'm having to set aside my emotional attachments and start visualizing it as an investment property. It's not easy. Especially with the uncertainty of anything that could go wrong and the expenses involved. But I'm trying to set the fear aside and pray we'll know how to face any troubles we meet once we meet them.

I am feeling pretty empty inside. I think that's the one thing keeping me together through this process. If I wasn't 100% certain the emptiness would go away once Neil and I were together again I'm not sure I could handle leaving my family and friends behind. But if it's anything this journey has taught me, it's just how strong the love I have for my husband is and how much love he gives me in return. It certainly keeps me going. Keeps me motivated. Keeps me sane.

I'm not sure how the next six weeks will play out or how I'll handle them. But I'm excited, and not so excited, to get them over with. I don't like crying and I haven't done much of it. It makes other people uncomfortable which in turn makes me uncomfortable. So I'm pretty good at suppressing my pain and laughing it off. I know there will come a point soon when that will be completely impossible to do. I haven't let myself think about that point much.

Sailing

You know a dream is like a river,
Ever changing as it flows,
And the dreamer is just a vessel,
That must follow where it goes.

Trying to learn from what's behind you,
And never knowing what's in store.
Makes each day a constant battle,
Just to stay between the shores.

And I will sail my vessel,
Till the river runs dry.
Like a bird upon the wind,
These waters are my sky.
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel,
Till the river runs dry!

Too many times we stand aside,
And let the water slip away.
And what we put off till tomorrow,
Has now become today.
So don't you sit upon the shore line,
And say you're satisfied.
Choose to chance the rapids,
And dare to dance the tides.

There is bound to be rough waters,
And I know I'll take some falls,
With the good lord as my captain,
I can make it through them all!

Companion

I'm going to try to post more. Maybe once a day or so, because this blog should be my place for therapy. And because I'm thinking about my husband, hundreds of miles away, I remembered this passage that was read in our wedding ceremony. It's a Native American blessing and it's very appropriate, even four years after our wedding day.

"Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other.
Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other.
Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other.
Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you.
May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and through all the years.
May happiness be your companion and your days together be good and long upon the earth."

So much to say. So much to do.

There's so much I could say about the last four months of my life. It's hard to say it in a way that doesn't take forever or put readers to sleep, so I'll try the best I can to summarize. I've always liked bullet points. I find them to be direct and easy to navigate. Bullets are my fact organizer of choice.

• Neil graduated from the US Coast Guard boot camp on April 29th, 2011.
• I'm very proud of him. As I've always been.
• Neil turned 29 the day after he graduated. We're getting old.
• His first assignment as a nonrate is in Seattle, WA on board a 378 high-endurance cutter named USCGC Midgett.
• It's funny that a 6'4" guy is stationed on a ship named The Midgett.
• We decided I would stay behind for a few months to get the finances in order and the house ready to rent.
• So he's a geo-bachelor and living on the ship.
• Which means I'm learning how to master living and sleeping by myself.
• I've gotten a lot better at it.
• I'm moving to Seattle (or really a little island near Seattle) at the end of September.
• I'm scared crapless.
• I can't think about leaving people behind because the sadness does me no favors.
• I have to focus not on what's staying here, but what's waiting for me there.
• Neil is waiting for me there.
• I'm pretty sure I'm not going to survive saying goodbye to my parents.
• That is easily, hands down, going to be the worst part.
• I can't think about that though, because my emotional survival is crucial.
• The movers are coming to pack up the house on September 21.
• The movers will be unpacking our house in our new apartment on October 1st.
• I'm hoping I'll be able to keep my job and work remotely.
• If not, it's going to be a scramble to find employment.
• The Midgett is about to leave port for three months.
• It's hard to imagine Neil being underway and unavailable.
• But I've spent the last four months that way ... I can handle three more.

Welcome to my new life.

A new man

So I've come to realize that the man I reunite with on April 29th will be a new man. The same man, but a new one. One filled with loyalty, respect and devotion to duty to the United States Coast Guard. An even better man than the one I had to walk away from Monday night, leaving him in a dank Sacramento hotel to wait bravely for the unknown. As if this woman could get any luckier.

Neil shipped out to boot camp in Cape May, NJ at 3am Tuesday, March 8th. He'll graduate the day before his 29th birthday. I couldn't be prouder of all he's accomplished to get to this point, the hurdles he's overcome and handled with grace and dignity. He's amazing now, and I can't wait to meet Neil 2.0.

Just to give you an idea of what will happen over the next eight weeks. (All photos are copyright of the US Coast Guard. I'm borrowing them from their Flickr photostream).

Since I can't be there to photograph Neil myself, I can only assume his experiences will be similar to those of other recruits:

His bus ride to base probably looked a lot like this:

 

His first night probably looked something like this, waiting to do paperwork and be issued his gear.

 

My mom was worried about him not having a jacket, so I had to show her that he'll be issued winter gear should the weather require it. "Issued" means "deducted from his paycheck."

He'll be learning a lot in a classroom similar to this. Bootcamp isn't all about physical exhaustion ... it's a mental workout too.

 

 He'll have to learn to climb a rope and ring a bell. I'm worried for him with this challenge. :)

 

He'll also learn how to be a fireman, and to put out fires on boats. I find it ironic that boats catch on fire.

 

I'm hoping he'll be asked to volunteer for the Recruit Honor Guard or Drill Team while he's there. They do a demo during the graduation ceremony and wouldn't that be an awesome surprise. 

Anyway, the lack of contact is slowly killing me, but I've come to realize that writing about my day to him just as if I were talking about it has become very therapeutic. I carry a notebook around with me everywhere in case I think of something throughout the day to revisit in a letter. He told me to write to him about mundane tasks so that he can get a sense of normalcy in his crazy new environment. Tomorrow's update will pertain to the newest episode of Jersey Shore. I told him to wave at Pauly D and Vinny for me. I really wish I could send him videos too because the new Charlie Sheen updates are amazing. 

Anyway, Neil, I love you more and miss you every second. 

49 days and a wake up left.

Come What May

Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
Want to vanish inside your kiss
Everyday I love you more and more
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time

Come what may, come what may
I will love you until my dying day

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you

And there's no mountain too high no river too wide
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide
But I love you until the end of time

Come what may, come what may
I will love you until my dying day
Oh come what may, come what may
I will love you

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place...

Come what may, come what may
I will love you until my dying day

March 8th

It's two weeks away. I'm trying not to freak out but I can feel the stress creeping up on me. My life will never be the same after March 8th. It will be better, sure, but not the same. And it's the unknown that's killing me. The forced independence. The loneliness. Not having the man I've shared every waking moment of the last nine years with around to talk to.

I know I'll be fine eventually. It's the first few days I'm scared of the most.

14 days left.

To be remembered

I'm posting this here so I have access to it always.
So I remember it always.

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Eternal Father, Lord of hosts,
Watch o’er the men who guard our coasts.
Protect them from the raging seas
And give them light and life and peace.
Grant them from Thy great throne above
The shield and shelter of Thy love.

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Task at hand

The next task I have added to my to-do list (immediately after "finish painting master bedroom") is to create a mantel-style headboard on the cheap. Meaning, for under $100. I think I have figured out a way to do it using various ornate trim pieces from Home Depot and building it out with 2x4s. We'll see. I'm determined.

I'm thinking using a focal moulding similar to this style (egg and dart):

This is the end result I have in mind: Wish me luck!