First Day...

Is it always going to feel like this? Today is the first day of first grade for Harmony. I made sure we were both in bed early the night before and that we got up early this mourning so I could make her a good breakfast to start the day. I made her biscuits and sausage gravy, her favorite. I helped her into her new school clothes, noticing how they seemed a little big on her, but knowing that they will be too small by the end of the school year. We arrived 10 minutes early and joined the crowd of parents and children outside the front doors of Vicenza Elementary School, waiting for them to open.

And then they did. It was time. I held Harmony's hand as we walked down the hall to Mrs. Mann's room. All the while, I was choking back the urge to cry. My throat was closing off and I could barely speak as Harmony went to greet her kindergarten teacher from last year that she loved so much. She gave her a giant hug. I liked her too. Mrs. Hundeby was special, and I could barely say "hello" to her because I wanted to cry. Why?

Is it because summer is finally over, along with spending the entire lazy pajama days with Harmony? Last week I was telling a friend that I couldn't wait for school to start so that Harmony would stop being so bored at home all day and so that I could get a damn break and have the house to myself again. No more cartoons all day, just perfect silence.

So then I must have been crying inside for the fact that this day solidifies that Harmony is getting older and so am I. I remember first grade. When you start remembering what it was like to be your child's age, you realize how long ago it was...

So we got to her classroom and we were greeted by a short, stout woman who is to lead my child through the next school year. She seemed like she could be a mean one. She's unfamiliar... Harmony only knows two kids in her class from last year. I sat her down at the desks and she held her backpack on her lap in front of her. She was cold from the mourning air and the air conditioned room, but I know that her backpack was doing double duty as a comforter, something to hold on to and to peek from behind. I kissed her and told her I loved her and left...

As I was driving home, I realized that there are many reasons why I was all choked up. I'm proud of Harmony and how she is growing into this wonderful little girl. I am missing my youth and wishing I would have known how awesome it was to be that age when I was young. The time just flies by... I'm going to miss her kindergarten teacher for whom I trusted to nurture her sensitive soul. And finally, I'm more emotional and sentimental than I ever care to admit.

I'll probably cry inside on the first day of every grade she begins until she's out of college...

Friends Along the Way

Why is it that right as I lay my head down to sleep, I am flooded with millions of random thoughts? The same thing happens to me when I get in the shower, the most brilliant things come to me and there I am soaking wet in the shower with no paper and pen to write them down.

Tonight, I'm not writing because I have anything brilliant to say. I am writing to write so that perhaps afterwards, I'll feel purged enough to sleep.

I've been thinking about friends a lot lately, so I'll see how this topic rides out....

I've had a lot of friends in my life. I've lost a lot of friends in my life starting from the very beginning. There was this Vietnamese girl, Gina that I was best friends with in grade school. We weren't very popular and she was quiet and I wasn't. It was the perfect "opposites attract" story. I was devastated when she changed schools in the fourth grade. We tried to stay in touch by organizing sleep-overs. But when I stayed at her house, her very reserved parents decided that they didn't like me and said we couldn't be friends anymore. I didn't replace her with a new best friend until late in the 6th grade.

As I'm writing this, I am realizing that I've always been the kind of person to have one BEST friend at a time.

Then Jessica came along... We hated each other at first and then the group of girls she hung with turned on her and we became inseparable. Until we went into Jr. High and everything was about being popular. I was only ever popular because everyone knew who the weird girl was... Jessica and I went through Jr. High together as best friends, but she wanted to branch out and soon made a persona for herself and other friends to go with it.

Then one night, I was talking to my boyfriend's friend Big Jake. We talked for hours and in no time, he loved me. When loving me didn't work, he became my best friend. And he still is my old-reliable, faithful best friend. He's the one I tell almost everything to, the one that listens and the one I know will always call and always care no matter what, cause that's who I will always be to him.

I've made dozens more friends along the way that have been close to me. Only a few really remain. I've burned a lot of bridges. Some I wish I could mend and don't know how and others are better left in ashes. There are friends I meet and know I could let myself love more, if only I didn't have to move away again have more people to miss dearly. There are friends I associate with only because of my military lifestyle. We'd never be interested in knowing each other and being friends if we met outside of this military circumstance. But we are friends just the same because we don't know when me might need each other, a friendship based on necessity.

There's this saying that I read at the bottom of someones chain e-mail the other day... It said that Life is too short for drama and petty things, so kiss slowly, laugh insanely, love truly and forgive easily. The part about forgiving easily has stuck with me the past couple of days as I have thought about friends and the burned bridges. If I would have easily forgiven some of my friends, would I be the push-over that they are still taking advantage of, or would I just have another friend now to further enrich my life?

What if people had forgiven me easier? What about the friends I've lost because I've been an asshole on an occasion or two? Or the ones who didn't stay in the cart for my crazy roller coaster years when I was doing dumb shit... What if I hadn't done all that dumb shit? I'd probably have more friends.

It all boils down to feeling lonely a lot lately. Ultimately, my husband is one of my best friends. But I feel like I should keep him separate from that category because I expect him to fulfill so many other areas of my life, as a lover and provider. I can't expect him to be able to fulfill me completely in terms of friendship. If all we needed as people was one mate to do it all, nobody would have any friends!

So here I am at 2:30 a.m. typing this out of my brain so I can sleep. I am here in Italy and feeling isolated. I am not without the capability of making new friends. And I have. More military friends out of necessity. I'm the type of person that lays it all out on the table. When I meet someone new, I tell them about how I grew up so that they will understand why I am the person I am. Most of the time, they are the kind of people who absolutely cannot relate because they grew up as good kids with good families. Then I get all weird and wonder why I bothered sharing all my crap with someone who could never comprehend the things I've gone through. I start to feel like they are the sort of people that I could easily offend. Then I bale. I judge them for being "nice people" who will only judge me.

Nothing is the same as the company of a friend who knows you through and through, accepts you, and loves you for who you are. And no phone does their companionship justice....

Summer Gifts from the Neighbors...

We have the most awsome downstairs neighbors! An older couple lives in the place below us and the husband was born there in 1941. Their names are Janco and Gabriella and they have made me feel very welcome here, helping us everytime we get locked out of the house and inviting us to Christmas dinner and sharing all of their delicious food and wine.

Today, I heard the buzzing of someone at my gate and when I opened it, it was Laura, their grandaughter, buzzing to play with Harmony. So away I sent her to play with Laura and her brothers and a few hours later, Harmony came back with a huge bag of home-grown tomatoes, tomatillos, jalepenos peppers and fresh basil leaves. They smell terriffic!

I can't wait to make a huge pot of sauce out of it using all fresh ingredients!

Great Aunt Hazel

Let this be my written prayer....

Please don't let anything happen to this woman, My dear Great Aunt Hazel, for she is getting so old. Please let me make it back to the states in time to go and visit her in Oklahoma and leach as many stories about my grandmother and my family as I possibly can. I will forever feel guilty if I don't make it to see her before she leaves this earth. I want to sit with her and drink tea and listen to her voice tell me the stories she knows about my Grandmother's life. I want to close my eyes and see it all, good and bad. So many memories die with a person... There are so many questions you wish you could ask after they are gone...

On a Positive Note... (sort of)

I thought I was going to have more to say over the last few days while my other half has been training. Whenever he's gone, my schedule changes and I stay up really late and get all philosophical and deep within myself until I become depressed and lonely and I get all crazy. Even when he's here, I fixate on things. I hold on to things that have gone unresolved. I envy men for being able to forget and let go of things with more ease than women...

I've been on one of those fixation tangents lately. A couple of kids I knew from elementary school became high school sweethearts and got married recently. I keep seeing all of their wedding photos and from my outsider's perspective, they really have a perfect story. They have known each other for a long time and still, they waited to get married. They both finished college first. The guy asked her father's permission before proposing and when he did propose, he made a great effort to make sure she would be surprised and that it would be special, and it was... The wedding was as expected, she had so many friends and family all around her. People that really love and care for them... And now, they have all the time in the world to be newlyweds, all in love and able to explore it and share it for a while before they have kids.

Sigh.... Seeing their photos and coming across their blogs has made me remember how disappointed I have become with my own life. I seem to struggle with this a lot... I can have all the stuff in the world. Money, clothes and all my material things don't make up for the love and support of good family relationships...

Nobody threw me a baby shower when I was pregnant. Most all of my friends are guys and my parents were too screwed up at the time...

I don't have a proposal story. Not one that I care to share with anyone, anyway...

I've never even had a ring that really fit my finger....

My wedding was at a court house. It was a good day, but it doesn't compare to what it would feel like if my family wasn't all torn apart. If they were all around me, supporting me and my marriage. But there was an awkwardness about it because certain family members dare not speak to others...

What if I did have a real wedding? I think about it sometimes. And when I try to picture it, I can't for the life of me think of anyone I could ask to be a bridesmaid. I move so much, it's hard to keep friendships nourished. I don't have a girlfriend that I feel close enough to ask. It would have to be my one faithful guy friend up there next to me. (which, I would love)

Basically, I compare my life to other people's lives. I have come up with this ideal in my mind of what it should be like, what I long to have... But my life has been anything but conventional. I haven't always had the same opportunities as everyone else. I really have got to stop dwelling on it! For better or worse, this is my life and the more I compare it to other's, the more I think I set myself up for disappointment. These tribulations have shaped my character and made me as tough as I am.

So I'm choosing to be happy lately. I think there is a lot of choice involved with being happy. It's a mindset, you either decide to be happy or decide to be dumpy and miserable. I chose the former of the two. I guess I'll have to figure out how to overcome these things I can't seem to get over....