Cello Thoughts

I'm starting to think that emotions are only linked to events about half the time. That is, the internal and the external don't match up.

My first few months on this base, I'd been hearing from some of the longer-term residents about how awful it was here, and how much they hated it. Baffled, I turned to my then-roommate, Mills, for an explanation. I was under the impression that it was pretty good here. I had my own bed, my door had a lock on it, there was a small fridge in my room, and room to keep some books if I wanted. Best of all, we had our own head, WITH a bathtub (this barracks used to be a hotel), and we almost always had hot water. And I could work out whenever I wanted, and we were right on the edge of Chicago - if you couldn't find something to do in Chicago, you really weren't trying.

Mills explained that I hadn't been here long enough to get it. And maybe now I have, because I'm starting to see a little bit of what's rough on this base (though I still think it's going to have NOTHING on ship life, especially on a deployment). And there's some other annoyances (50% of them could be cleared up if every male could just understand that I don't WANT a boyfriend right now, but I really need solid friends), and having crested one mountain, I've glanced up to see six or seven others, greater than the ones I've been struggling to clear this summer. I miss my family, and the distance is pulling away more relationships that I can only hope will resurrect when I come back.

But tonight, the emotions don't match that at all. I'm listening to a beautiful cello trio that I love, and feeling that sweet ache from memories that are so, so good, and having had friends that are so, so good. Times at Camp, with the kids, or late at night in my bunk, listening to everyone fall asleep, being ready for anything they need. Going for long treks with another counselor, late late so that the lights of Camp are off and we're relying on the moon to get us around, and if we get caught being out this late we'll be washing Delta's car with a toothbrush in the morning, but the conversations are so GOOD that it'd be worth it. Josie. Ethan. Myles. Rose. Ducky. One day when some of us were wrapping up the ropes course late, and two of us sat on top of the tower and watched Camp settle down for the night, and the sun recede behind the valley.

The band - somehow, between St. Charles, Autumn Ridge, Fort Wilderness, Sheridan, Riverland, Camp Lebanon, RCTC, early morning jazz rehearsals, late night play rehearsals, all the musicians I've played with form one massive ensemble in here. The band.

Sheridan, mountains, the intensely happy friendship Ross and I shared in the midst of a lot of other junk, hiking, my kids, Britni, The Well, late nights out by the horse paddock in the middle of a snowstorm, Ross coming to find me when I was just stressed by all that was going on and went out to clear my head at the far end of campus, happy mornings, all the antics with Ashley, late nights with Ross where we both had too much to struggle with and went out to the soccer field to pass a ball around for a few hours and yell over the wind about what we were mad about. We could solve each other's problems, but not our own. And somehow, with all of that struggling, Sheridan was a really happy time for me. Volunteering at the animal shelter. Having a fantastic job working with kids. Learning in show choir, and collecting stories in Biology and A&P. Disagreeing with the pastor, but walking to church in the sunrise. A LOT of time with Charlie, my Park Avenue. Late nights calling home, and home coming to visit. Blinding snowstorms where you'd get ticketed for driving, but we could walk anywhere and have ninja-battles. Watching Firefly with Doritos and getting back to Davis way too late. Clowning around with Chris, Ross, and Ashley in show choir. Beautiful sunny mornings when I could see Cloud Peak from my front step.

I think here, we're afraid to make those friendships. Or we simply recognize that we can't. My two closest friends on base are both male - one will be going for officer in two years, and the other's on a separate rate, which means separate schedules, separate departure dates, and separate assignments. If we DID end up on the same ship, we'd be stuck like glue, because the people that know you through these transitions mean so much more to you. The people who wrote to me during Boot Camp ended up being people that I stayed tied to, somehow, just stronger. I have one friend who's known me since I was fourteen, and went Army - he's now occupying an interesting position to have seen the transition, be on both sides of it, but also understand a lot of what's going ON in the transition. And then there's Josie's inherent beauty and Ethan's strength, Myles' joyful humility, Rose's quirky whimsy, Ross' trust, Ducky's indomitable spirit, the amazing spark that lives in Bjorn, Ashley's pride and goofy self-deprecation, Britni's...SUNSHINE! Layne...wow, Layne was all-around awesome as a girlfriend.

Other things go back further, but it's as though the sweeter something is, the more painful it is to contemplate now. There's so much in my life that's been beautiful, and for some reason that hurts tonight, but it's what we used to call a happy-hurt. You hurt because there was (or is) something good out there.

And as soon as I think about my family when I'm feeling like this, I just start tearing up, because they've been AMAZING. They encourage me (hugely needed these days). They inspire me, because they're already proud of me, and I want to earn that pride. And no matter how much this changes me, they will always be there for me. And the memories of what we've done together, and the unique colors in all our personalities - it's overwhelming. I'm so blessed.

Life is getting a little rougher on base. But there's SO much more to life than this base. Maybe that's all that's going on tonight.