I've got an medium aged piece of writing today. Scrawled it down back when I read a bunch of military Dee Henderson books and came away with the following piece.
Early morning hour and the peace that came with it.
Warm sunlight creeping in across the tiled kitchen floor.
Quiet rustle of the pages of her Bible.
Shadow’s heaved sigh and Troxie’s foot jerking in response to his dream.
The scent of her coffee drifting to her from the overlarge mug she’d taken to using.
Mandy pulled her knee up to rest her chin on it, blue gaze drifting from her morning journaling to the backyard and the ocean, visible on the horizon as the hill dropped away.
It’d slipped her mind to not watch CNN before bed, again, and she’d sat through a lengthy late night report about a series of IED attacks in Afghanistan. She’d woken up at two o’clock after a nightmare.
Sleep hadn’t returned, even though she knew that wasn’t where Sam was deployed to. Or at least, was fairly certain. The whereabouts of his unit was restricted information.
A subdued breath left her. Mandy rubbed the back of her neck, sitting back and reaching for her coffee. The black mug with the Marine Core insignia on it she’d stolen from Sam’s cupboards last month was too large for her hands, but she found an odd safety in that fact. It made her feel like he was closer than a world and an ocean away.
Shifting around, the woman checked the time on the stove. Almost 0600. Shadow and Troxie would be stirring from their slumber on the kitchen floor soon—protective instincts kept them near her, especially after an irregular night—and would be expecting the morning jog she’d kept as a habit even after retiring from the Air Force.
It was Saturday, which meant escaping her thoughts at work was off the table. No overtime pay and while she enjoyed her work, being locked deep in a basement behind multiple dead-bolted doors made her a wee bit claustrophobic.
There was work to be done today, anyways. Claire’s husband was coming home next week as well, and between a toddler and being seven months pregnant, the spring cleaning she wanted to get done before his homecoming wasn’t happening. The request for help had come up in the weekly Bible study Mandy went to and she’d volunteered, badly needing a chance to burn off her own nervous energy.
Mandy reached for the letter from her sister that had come in the mail a handful of days prior. It’d been tucked in the pages of her well-worn Bible since, reread a number of times. The news it carried had left a pit in her stomach.
“It’s the most amazing thing, Dee. Jeff proposed to me tonight. I probably won’t sleep for a week. The ring is gorgeous and he wants to be married no later than next summer!”
Oh, Meg...
The pain that squeezed in her chest was familiar. Mandy was well-accustomed to its presence, after two years of feeling it. She dreaded having to tell Sam about this letter. He deserved to know its contents, but she didn’t want to be the one to deliver the news. It’s not fair that this happened to him, Lord.
The German Shepherd sprawled on the ground behind her roused with a clank of ID tags and a sneeze. Shadow heaved himself up and plodded to her, resting his head on her thigh and staring up at her, pleading.
With a watery laugh, blinking away the tears that had risen to the surface unbidden, Mandy leaned down to press a kiss to his furry head, scratching behind his ear. She would miss having the Shepherd around the house when Sam came home and took him back.
“Maybe your daddy will get his head out of the hole he’s buried it in while he’s dry-docked,” she remarked with one last pat before pushing the dog away so she could get up.
Shadow moved to give her space and stepped over the top of Troxie, whacking the Retriever on his way and awakening her dog as well.
She checked the time. 0600. Time to get moving.
Draining the last of her coffee, Mandy headed to change into her running clothes. There’d been more than enough contemplation of the entire subject for one morning, and although she could feel it still pressuring at the back of her thoughts, she needed to get moving.
The weight of it did cause her to pen down a memo to call Mrs. McIntyre and see if they could meet for lunch early next week. The older woman was her confidante of recent years, offering the level-headed advice and listening ear that she needed in ever-increasing frequency.
She had to get it together.
Sam would be flying home next week and would be needing their tried and true friendship as he got resettled into the pace of stateside life. (Even if she hoped for that picture she’d sent from the 4th of July, her with Shadow and Troxie in red, white, and blue, laughter brimming, to have made changes in his heart.)
(Come home safe, soldier scrawled across the photo in metallic silver pen.)
Meg, you’ll never be able to grasp what you’ve given up.
Shadow and Troxie were waiting by the front door when she emerged, scraping her hair back to restrain it. It was impossible not to smile.
They were both getting old, but Shadow’s past MWD training showed in the way he sat upright in anticipation of her coming. Troxie, on the other hand, a family dog for most of his existence with the name to show for it, had slumped down to snooze for a while longer.
“Come on, pretty boys,” Mandy laughed, stepping around them to unlock the front door, slipping her phone into a plastic bag and putting it into the pocket of her running capris.
The dogs preceded her outside into the still-cool air. Most of her neighbors’ cars were still in their driveways, the true sign of the weekend having arrived. No one wanted to be at work if they didn’t have to be.
Relocking her home behind her, Mandy took a moment to stretch while her two companions wandered around the yard, searching out the scents of any new person or critter that might have trespassed into their territory.
Hoping that the fact that it was Saturday would keep the beach mostly clear, she started at an even jog towards the preset loop that would take her down to the waterfront. The fresh, salty air did wonders for the soul, and she hoped the length of the course would help settle her tumultuous thoughts.
I wanted to capture the longing, the waiting, wishing, and hoping. Not sure that it quite worked, but I tried.
Life is about to descend into a hectic mess here soon. We're watching the Hundred Foot Journey right now and I feel as if we are in the quiet before the storm, the calm before the chaos. We have two weeks, not even, before we are going to drive back down the highway to the East Coast. (Or is it east coast? Do you capitalize that?) Then it'll be the moving in process--again.
Such fun.
But I have not forgotten you all, have no fear. I'll continue to update as I can or as I have worthy material. Thank you for staying with me.
Ad astra per aspera.
To the stars, through difficulties.
Warm sunlight creeping in across the tiled kitchen floor.
Quiet rustle of the pages of her Bible.
Shadow’s heaved sigh and Troxie’s foot jerking in response to his dream.
The scent of her coffee drifting to her from the overlarge mug she’d taken to using.
Mandy pulled her knee up to rest her chin on it, blue gaze drifting from her morning journaling to the backyard and the ocean, visible on the horizon as the hill dropped away.
It’d slipped her mind to not watch CNN before bed, again, and she’d sat through a lengthy late night report about a series of IED attacks in Afghanistan. She’d woken up at two o’clock after a nightmare.
Sleep hadn’t returned, even though she knew that wasn’t where Sam was deployed to. Or at least, was fairly certain. The whereabouts of his unit was restricted information.
A subdued breath left her. Mandy rubbed the back of her neck, sitting back and reaching for her coffee. The black mug with the Marine Core insignia on it she’d stolen from Sam’s cupboards last month was too large for her hands, but she found an odd safety in that fact. It made her feel like he was closer than a world and an ocean away.
Shifting around, the woman checked the time on the stove. Almost 0600. Shadow and Troxie would be stirring from their slumber on the kitchen floor soon—protective instincts kept them near her, especially after an irregular night—and would be expecting the morning jog she’d kept as a habit even after retiring from the Air Force.
It was Saturday, which meant escaping her thoughts at work was off the table. No overtime pay and while she enjoyed her work, being locked deep in a basement behind multiple dead-bolted doors made her a wee bit claustrophobic.
There was work to be done today, anyways. Claire’s husband was coming home next week as well, and between a toddler and being seven months pregnant, the spring cleaning she wanted to get done before his homecoming wasn’t happening. The request for help had come up in the weekly Bible study Mandy went to and she’d volunteered, badly needing a chance to burn off her own nervous energy.
Mandy reached for the letter from her sister that had come in the mail a handful of days prior. It’d been tucked in the pages of her well-worn Bible since, reread a number of times. The news it carried had left a pit in her stomach.
“It’s the most amazing thing, Dee. Jeff proposed to me tonight. I probably won’t sleep for a week. The ring is gorgeous and he wants to be married no later than next summer!”
Oh, Meg...
The pain that squeezed in her chest was familiar. Mandy was well-accustomed to its presence, after two years of feeling it. She dreaded having to tell Sam about this letter. He deserved to know its contents, but she didn’t want to be the one to deliver the news. It’s not fair that this happened to him, Lord.
The German Shepherd sprawled on the ground behind her roused with a clank of ID tags and a sneeze. Shadow heaved himself up and plodded to her, resting his head on her thigh and staring up at her, pleading.
With a watery laugh, blinking away the tears that had risen to the surface unbidden, Mandy leaned down to press a kiss to his furry head, scratching behind his ear. She would miss having the Shepherd around the house when Sam came home and took him back.
“Maybe your daddy will get his head out of the hole he’s buried it in while he’s dry-docked,” she remarked with one last pat before pushing the dog away so she could get up.
Shadow moved to give her space and stepped over the top of Troxie, whacking the Retriever on his way and awakening her dog as well.
She checked the time. 0600. Time to get moving.
Draining the last of her coffee, Mandy headed to change into her running clothes. There’d been more than enough contemplation of the entire subject for one morning, and although she could feel it still pressuring at the back of her thoughts, she needed to get moving.
The weight of it did cause her to pen down a memo to call Mrs. McIntyre and see if they could meet for lunch early next week. The older woman was her confidante of recent years, offering the level-headed advice and listening ear that she needed in ever-increasing frequency.
She had to get it together.
Sam would be flying home next week and would be needing their tried and true friendship as he got resettled into the pace of stateside life. (Even if she hoped for that picture she’d sent from the 4th of July, her with Shadow and Troxie in red, white, and blue, laughter brimming, to have made changes in his heart.)
(Come home safe, soldier scrawled across the photo in metallic silver pen.)
Meg, you’ll never be able to grasp what you’ve given up.
Shadow and Troxie were waiting by the front door when she emerged, scraping her hair back to restrain it. It was impossible not to smile.
They were both getting old, but Shadow’s past MWD training showed in the way he sat upright in anticipation of her coming. Troxie, on the other hand, a family dog for most of his existence with the name to show for it, had slumped down to snooze for a while longer.
“Come on, pretty boys,” Mandy laughed, stepping around them to unlock the front door, slipping her phone into a plastic bag and putting it into the pocket of her running capris.
The dogs preceded her outside into the still-cool air. Most of her neighbors’ cars were still in their driveways, the true sign of the weekend having arrived. No one wanted to be at work if they didn’t have to be.
Relocking her home behind her, Mandy took a moment to stretch while her two companions wandered around the yard, searching out the scents of any new person or critter that might have trespassed into their territory.
Hoping that the fact that it was Saturday would keep the beach mostly clear, she started at an even jog towards the preset loop that would take her down to the waterfront. The fresh, salty air did wonders for the soul, and she hoped the length of the course would help settle her tumultuous thoughts.
I wanted to capture the longing, the waiting, wishing, and hoping. Not sure that it quite worked, but I tried.
Life is about to descend into a hectic mess here soon. We're watching the Hundred Foot Journey right now and I feel as if we are in the quiet before the storm, the calm before the chaos. We have two weeks, not even, before we are going to drive back down the highway to the East Coast. (Or is it east coast? Do you capitalize that?) Then it'll be the moving in process--again.
Such fun.
But I have not forgotten you all, have no fear. I'll continue to update as I can or as I have worthy material. Thank you for staying with me.
Ad astra per aspera.
To the stars, through difficulties.
