HR 8938 Cephei

While en route I saw brothers in thread corralling into a hotel I’m familiar with. I wanted to ask them what they were doing, because I am hungry to welcome home those who hated wandering and cursing the desert like I did, while our families were thousands of miles of sea and land apart.

I can’t tell you how much I enjoy my job, because it feels sacred. If you have work don’t talk about it, because all the things they instigate on the news lead me to believe that I am so incredibly fortunate to have this job. I am, but I wonder how many of my feelings in the situation are legit and how many are superficial because of the things I’ve heard or smelled or wondered.

It is sacred, because family is involved, and because I am involved. I can’t and shouldn’t talk about these things, like I never should have.  I earn what I need to, to survive, and this is what is important. To have the things I need, plus a small buffer to provide things that I would not otherwise be able to provide, even a buffer for pleasantries. It is sacred because the people in power seem to know exactly who to drill into, when, and how deep.

Rob me of this love

Raise your weapon, raise your weapon

A nephew of some family has passed, and it has resulted in some heavy grief because I knew him when he was a tan faced youth probably near a critical age of my son….knowing someone I knew when they were a child has gone hurts. Then it puts my my own into a perilous perspective. I know his father is hurting and his family that spent so much time with him is as well. How am I so fortunate to have the time I do? Why do I still have some of the things I do, despite a decided lack of appreciation and awareness of/for them?

I never wanted to be some of the things I’ve known. And I certainly don’t want to be the parent on the receiving end of a door knock or phone call that adjusts my perspective forever. I’ve known enough of the people who’s parents were. SPC W, I’d only joked with him the weekend before, and then he was gone. Forever wiped from our accountability roster. SPC S, whom I owe three dollars to. SGT M, who inprocessed me to the CSH. SPC O who I’d interacted with during their exeval.

If I could save everyone that haunts me good or bad, I would give up whatever treasure might be promised me to do so.



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