20 years ago, I woke up to a screaming drill instructor, chaos, mind games, and effectively running everywhere I went. I lived in a green uniform, seeing no other colors but black, green, and brown for months. I swam in 10 foot deep water with 120 pounds of gear, went 3 days and 48 miles of marching on 4 hours of total sleep (and one meal). I didn’t speak with my family for 13 weeks, other than the occasional letter. I ran until I died, and then ran some more. Rifle marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, history, military legal codes, uniform standard, rappelling, gas chambers, and a multitude of other subjects were drilled into my head, non-stop, and if I should not be sufficient in any given one, I would be held back and given another week on that godforsaken island in South Carolina.
Marine Corps recruit training (boot camp) was the hardest thing I had ever done, and for a long time, I thought it would be the hardest thing I would ever do.
If it was, I wouldn’t be writing to you today.
It's Sunday morning...
I should hear you happily humming as you walk down the stairs to start the coffee.
As I lay in our bed, I should notice the familiar sound of the beans grinding.
Soon, the smell of coffee should be thick in the air.
There should be music playing in the kitchen.
And, any moment now, my phone should ding and the screen should light up with
- your name.
Right now, you should be sending me my "Good Morning Beautiful" text message.
The familiar, heartfelt message you lovingly sent to me everyday
- whether you were on your way to work, or at home, in our kitchen.
You should be making coffee and texting me on this ordinary Sunday.
But, you're not here...
The only day you missed texting me "Good Morning Beautiful" was
November 15, 2016.
I knew something was wrong, and I was right.
And, nothing, not one thing, has really felt right since.
Tomorrow marks 6 months since Tin has passed. How am I already here? How does time move so slowly and so quickly at the same time? Honestly it is Life’s biggest blessing and curse. As I look back at these 6 months, I see a new road behind me that I have paved on my own. Of course there have been others to help me through the thick brush but I had to be the one to cut through the weeds. Every once in awhile I see something amazing and I catch myself talking to Tin. Sometimes it feels good and sometimes it causes an upset. Either way I never expected to be where I am today only 6 months after my greatest loss.