in memorial.

painfully aware that this weekend is NOT about an extra day off of work, moving cute white sundresses to the front of the closet, barbecues, time at the lake or sporting the first sunburn of the summer.  it IS about flag-draped caskets, grief, ultimate sacrifice, remembering, honoring, living (and dying) for something bigger than yourself, courage, selflessness, service, valor, grappling with unanswered questions and survivor's guilt, not taking even the most seemingly mundane things for granted, the searing pain that accompanies loss, and individuals and families who pay an exorbitant price for freedom every.single.day they wake up without a husband, wife, son, daughter, brother, sister, mother, or father.

there's a different weight to Memorial Day this year.  it's much much heavier.  truthfully, a lot of things are much heavier these days.  war changes life.  it changes people.  it changes families.  it creates a pronounced before and after.  the goal and focus is posttraumatic growth.  but it's a painstaking healing process.  and one that I don't believe will ever fully end.  not in a grotesque, fatalistic way.  you move forward.  there is joy.  you savor it.  but life is different.

my heart aches for dana.  today.  and every day that has passed since December 27th.  my heart aches.  and my stomach continues to feel nauseated knowing how easily I could be in her shoes right now.  how the gravity of today could not just feel heavy like it does for me as I sit here typing.  but like it was threatening to crush you and suffocating you and making it hard to take a full breath as you had to wake up every morning having to face the reality of living the rest of your life without your husband. you just don't shake that.  not that I want to or feel that I should necessarily rid myself of the feeling.  I guess it goes back to the "different" piece.  Different Perspective. Different Purpose. Different Appreciation.

if you have time, these these TED talks are definitely worth a listen.  they were how we started Memorial Day today.    We also liked this Washington Post article a lot.

Philip trained up from DC on Friday.  Saturday we were able to reconnect w/ friends.  Steve is an AFPAK Hand w/ Philip.  He and his wife and their kids were in NJ visiting his family.  They're been in the midst of crazy separation people-without-a-country chaos for 20 months.  It was wonderful to see them.  They get it.  The visit also oddly brought lots of feelings to the surface about a whole host of things.  The high price.  Family stuff.  Risk.  How overwhelming it can be about thinking about what is on the horizon but fighting with every shred of my being to be fully present amidst so much uncertainty and unpredictability.  It was good to see Philip and Steve laugh again.  (and someone asked me if I was 19.  I laughed.  I look and feel anything but 19 these days, but that sweet lady [with failing vision?!?] made my day more than she knew ;)

Though I went home and as the day came to a close I found myself having a very very rare bout of tears where I laid in bed pleading with Philip (and probably really more with God. . . flawed theology I know. . .) to come home from the next deployment alive.  I don't let myself go there on a regular basis (though in some ways maybe I'm always there on some level).  I can't.  I'm highly defended against it in a pretty psychologically healthy/adaptive way.  But I think my time w/ Ashley (and on a more not-fully-conscious level everything about this weekend) left me a bit more raw than usual. [I contemplated whether to actually write/publish this paragraph, but there it is.  Another candid, uncensored glimpse into my not-so-picture-perfect-unglamorous-life]

Yesterday we drove up to New York and spent a wonderful day connecting with family friends who are in town to celebrate the pretty huge ginormous deal of watching their son graduate from West Point.  I remember four years ago Mitchell coming to visit us in DC during his first year at WP.  It was pretty moving to see him yesterday --- the humble confidence he exudes really struck me.  In a couple of days he will step into a role as an officer in the United States Army that will alter his life and change his world.  He's not the "child" our family has known him to be for so many years.  He is going to be leading.  He is going to have a weight responsibility on his shoulders as a young man that most will not know in a lifetime.  As Philip and I walked around WP we were struck by the fact that we are not "young" any more.  These 22 year olds looked reeeeeally young.  They were nine years old when the towers fell and the world changed forever.  In the coming months they will have responsibility for the lives of groups of 18 year olds who will be looking up to them with the fear of God.  It amazes me.

West Point is absolutely beautiful.  Philip and I talked about how we'd both be very content to get teaching gigs up there.  I've never had lofty teaching or academic aspirations, but I think I'd get a kick out of working at a military academy in some way/shape/form.  You all are welcome to visit ;)  The Husdson River-much like the Potomac-is fully of some pretty questionable water, but it is unbelievably scenic.

Today has been a low-key, try-to-recharge-the-batteries kind of day.  Solemn.  But filled with overwhelming gratitude that we are able to share today and that the emotion of the weekend has not had to be shouldered in separation.  We thought about taking the train into the City and going to the 9/11 museum, but were not sure we quite had the people energy for the tourist/holiday weekend hoards of people when we woke up this morning.  So we went with the standard Starbucks, Chipotle, Princeton sunshine default.

Last weekend was a big one.  Graduation (though not officially graduation until August, so I'm going to hold off on expository and photographic narrative of that kind of big, life-changing journey until then).  Celebrating 7 incredible years of marriage to the man who has held my heart since childhood.  Amazing.  What.A.Year.  Lots of big things, but these days I'm clinging to the small and the simple.  For it is the small and the simple that are things that make up the time of our life.