Patchwork Quilt
My life is like a patchwork quilt made of different fabrics.
For the most part those fabrics are exclusive of each other. Each fabric making up its own pattern and block. There are a few threads that intertwine throughout the quilt, but for the most part, each fabric tells its own story. My stories. Each divided by the place that I lived and the life I was living.
Friday night as Matt and I were coming home from a work function I suddenly started to sing an old song that used to be a favorite over 14 years ago. It is a little ditty by David Allan Coe called "You never even call me by my name". There is nothing particularly remarkable about the song, other than it is funny and it takes me back to a group of friends hanging out on the lanai of a friend's house in Hawaii. It was the place where we always went on a Friday night after work. For a few moments we were silent in the car as we allowed our minds to take us back to that place, to be in that story for just a moment. It was a good time, Hawaii. We were barefoot and on the beach a lot and I owned 25 sundresses and 3 pair of sandals. At night you could see every single star in the sky. The smell of plumerias makes me want to cry to this day. It is the smell of freshness, vibrance and beauty. We embraced the Aloha spirit there, not a care in the world. I was in college and Matt worked crazy long hours, but on the weekends we ate the world's freshest seafood, incorporated sand into our skincare treatments and soaked up every drop of sun that shone on the island and in our lives. It was a good time.
We are approaching the 10 year anniversary of the loss of four members of our Lancer family. A decade ago on November 7th aircraft 431 was shot down over Tikrit, Iraq killing all passengers and crew. If you knew me back then, you probably remember this day. It was the darkest day. In honor of the anniversary, there is a reunion at Fort Campbell next weekend. With the reunion just days away the Lancer Facebook page is exploding with old photos of the first Lancer deployment. Today I perused hundreds of photos on the page, recognizing faces I haven't seen in so long. I laughed as I realized how much younger we were all back then and wondered how everyone's lives have changed. I cried as I looked through photos of the difficult living conditions over there, saw pictures of people who have since died, and remembered how tough that year was. Building up to that deployment was scary. Everything was unknown. Relationships developed quickly as we all knew we were going to need each other soon. And we did, need each other. The bond of the first deployment will remain although our lives have all changed so much. I barely recognize myself from those days. I was either pregnant or had a child under a year old the entire time we lived there. It was a growing time, both in our family and individually. I treasure the people who helped me get through those uncertain times.
Oh Germany. I loved living there so much, but I love the people there even more. I was so blessed to be surrounded by such amazing friends. I doubt I ever laughed so hard, so often, and lived life fuller than when we were in Germany. Now that we have been here over a year, those times are further and further away. I miss the people, our time together, and closeness we all shared. We saw so much. I'm still often astounded at how many places we travelled to when we lived there, and how many amazing sights we saw. Was it a dream? How is it possible that I shared so many great memories with so many simply incredible people in such a compact span of time?
My life is a quilt. Neatly packaged into different fabrics telling the story of my different lives. Each section so special for very different reasons. At any given moment I would willingly jump through the frame of the quilt and spend one more day in that story. Some, I would like to stay for days and days, but others I'd gladly jump right on back to present day after a quick visit.
Today I sit wondering if I will see all the truly special people from each of my lives again. It is shocking how often I am able to bump in to a person or two from another life, but I long to sing David Allan Coe during a hurricane warning again, eat dessert on Mondays with my Virginia peeps, hang out at a fest with members of the 214th, play games during a tornado in Alabama, enjoy the longest breakfast in the world with my girls from Grant circle, celebrate the return of our soldiers with my Lancer family, bump in to one of my best friends at the marina, and embrace each of the beautiful people who have been plopped right down in my life at different times and different places....the people who my my quilt colorful, rich, and warm.
For the most part those fabrics are exclusive of each other. Each fabric making up its own pattern and block. There are a few threads that intertwine throughout the quilt, but for the most part, each fabric tells its own story. My stories. Each divided by the place that I lived and the life I was living.
Friday night as Matt and I were coming home from a work function I suddenly started to sing an old song that used to be a favorite over 14 years ago. It is a little ditty by David Allan Coe called "You never even call me by my name". There is nothing particularly remarkable about the song, other than it is funny and it takes me back to a group of friends hanging out on the lanai of a friend's house in Hawaii. It was the place where we always went on a Friday night after work. For a few moments we were silent in the car as we allowed our minds to take us back to that place, to be in that story for just a moment. It was a good time, Hawaii. We were barefoot and on the beach a lot and I owned 25 sundresses and 3 pair of sandals. At night you could see every single star in the sky. The smell of plumerias makes me want to cry to this day. It is the smell of freshness, vibrance and beauty. We embraced the Aloha spirit there, not a care in the world. I was in college and Matt worked crazy long hours, but on the weekends we ate the world's freshest seafood, incorporated sand into our skincare treatments and soaked up every drop of sun that shone on the island and in our lives. It was a good time.
We are approaching the 10 year anniversary of the loss of four members of our Lancer family. A decade ago on November 7th aircraft 431 was shot down over Tikrit, Iraq killing all passengers and crew. If you knew me back then, you probably remember this day. It was the darkest day. In honor of the anniversary, there is a reunion at Fort Campbell next weekend. With the reunion just days away the Lancer Facebook page is exploding with old photos of the first Lancer deployment. Today I perused hundreds of photos on the page, recognizing faces I haven't seen in so long. I laughed as I realized how much younger we were all back then and wondered how everyone's lives have changed. I cried as I looked through photos of the difficult living conditions over there, saw pictures of people who have since died, and remembered how tough that year was. Building up to that deployment was scary. Everything was unknown. Relationships developed quickly as we all knew we were going to need each other soon. And we did, need each other. The bond of the first deployment will remain although our lives have all changed so much. I barely recognize myself from those days. I was either pregnant or had a child under a year old the entire time we lived there. It was a growing time, both in our family and individually. I treasure the people who helped me get through those uncertain times.
Oh Germany. I loved living there so much, but I love the people there even more. I was so blessed to be surrounded by such amazing friends. I doubt I ever laughed so hard, so often, and lived life fuller than when we were in Germany. Now that we have been here over a year, those times are further and further away. I miss the people, our time together, and closeness we all shared. We saw so much. I'm still often astounded at how many places we travelled to when we lived there, and how many amazing sights we saw. Was it a dream? How is it possible that I shared so many great memories with so many simply incredible people in such a compact span of time?
My life is a quilt. Neatly packaged into different fabrics telling the story of my different lives. Each section so special for very different reasons. At any given moment I would willingly jump through the frame of the quilt and spend one more day in that story. Some, I would like to stay for days and days, but others I'd gladly jump right on back to present day after a quick visit.
Today I sit wondering if I will see all the truly special people from each of my lives again. It is shocking how often I am able to bump in to a person or two from another life, but I long to sing David Allan Coe during a hurricane warning again, eat dessert on Mondays with my Virginia peeps, hang out at a fest with members of the 214th, play games during a tornado in Alabama, enjoy the longest breakfast in the world with my girls from Grant circle, celebrate the return of our soldiers with my Lancer family, bump in to one of my best friends at the marina, and embrace each of the beautiful people who have been plopped right down in my life at different times and different places....the people who my my quilt colorful, rich, and warm.
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