The Time of Our Life: summer nights

Philip and I just had a delightful date night.

DC. Some people love it here. Some people hate it here. Being away has cultivated in me a deep appreciation for life here. I am very very content and savoring the time and opportunities we have here during this chapter of our lives. And I'm at a point where I'd like to stay here as long as we can. (even though as we were driving home tonight we hit traffic that hit an absolute standstill. At 10 pm. On a Friday night. Only this place. . . I've just reached a point where I just have to laugh about it). The pace of life is crazy. The pressure of this place is intangibly palpable in a way I can't quite explain. Except that I can feel it when I'm away from here. I mean when we are in CO Springs or Breckenridge, even walking through a grocery store feels different (I distinctly remember realizing this one Christmas break when we were visiting Paul and Laura. I got to CO and as we stopped to quick get groceries on the way home I recognized that I felt like I could actually BREATHE for the first time in months). Much more chilled out. Not so ridiculously over the top intense. I've come to recognize that the pressure and pace of life here seeps into even seemingly benign places, spaces, and experiences. Even going to the grocery store.

But the truth is, it's fun being in the center of a lot of things. For instance. . . tonight we got to enjoy just another average night in The District. We did date night at the Air Force Memorial where they have been holding an outdoor summer concert series featuring the United States Air Force Band (yes, each service has a band and a chorus. . .). It was a lovely way to enjoy one of the few summer nights we get to share this year - and we soaked up every moment. It was one of those evenings that I know I'm going to remember for a long time. It wasn't crazy or fancy, but it was special.

Tonight as laid my head back on a blanket, beautiful music filling the sky, I looked up at the missing man formation depicted AF memorial and thought about how different this night was from life a year ago. I sat there tonight pondering the fact that I was sitting inches away from my husband enjoying the lavish freedom that we enjoy as US citizens looking out over the skyline of a city that is at the heart of all that is American. I thought about the fact that a year ago on this evening he was probably in a fire fight. I also thought about the fact that as I took in a deep breath of sweet summer air sitting next to my husband, someone else's spouse was in Philip's place. People were continuing to pay for my admission to the concert.

I do most of my grocery shopping @ the commissary at Fort Meyer which is situated right alongside of Arlington National Cemetery. When I go to the doctor, when I pick up a prescription, when I buy milk, when I get fuel, whenever I drive through the gate, show my ID, and and carry on with my daily life I am a few feet away from miles of headstones which serve as powerful reminders of the privilege that accompanies even the most seemingly mundane practices of everyday existence in the free world. As I carry on my routine business at Fort Meyer, I also drive by the chapel over and over. All too frequently I am passing the beginning, middle, or end of a funeral.

Yesterday I drove by what I learned today was this funeral. (these green-on-blue attacks are no joke. . . they terrify me.) It was the first time I had been face to face with military funeral proceedings since Dave died. It made me feel nauseated. I have always been affected, but I realized yesterday that from here on out it will likely always be different. There's more of a depth and complexity to the disturbance that happens in a very deep place in my heart when I see men in uniform carrying a casket now. We haven't been able to tolerate even have a website with pictures or the story open too long.