Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Strings

Every now and then the military world gets a nod. When a new movie debuts our world gets a sympathetic look of empathy, people try to understand us for a moment. Then, a Kardashian posts a new selfie. A Medal of Honor recipient retains a solid fifteen minutes of acclaim and then Kanye tweets. It's a cycle, but for most of us these moments don't fleet and they don't fade. Several of us connect and can't forget. An airport means coming and going, which means so much more than coming and going. A flag at half mass means twenty-one guns for you, and then somehow it gets really really beautiful. Transcendent, really. When someone asks for a photo ID, you feel yourself flashing them a peek at your whole life. You basically say, "here is a layer of my skin, look". These moments come and they stay, they stick to your bones and they cover your ID card with layer upon layer of memoirs. It's more than a viral photograph of a young child clinging to a uniformed soldier, it's the sixteen times you were the child in the photograph. It's hard to relate to the people that don't hold these memories in heavy arms at all times. I think it's okay to love but I also think its okay to leave. Like Tim McGraw recently crooned, "Don't take for granted the love this life gives you. When you get where you're going, don't forget turn back around, and help the next one in line". 


"This is for the people who find it difficult to leave, whether that is to leave people or places. This is for the people like me, that build homes out of everything we touch. Every inch of skin, every page in a book, every stranger's kiss. This is for the people who wear their hearts on their sleeves, and on their lips, and for those that carry it in the palms of their hands. This is for the girl with a hundred strings tied to her, tugging her in every direction except forward. This is for you. This is for me. We are nomads who find homes that temporarily house our hearts, we are travelers that never leave our home towns. This is for those who are afraid to cut the strings, for the people who are afraid to leave the places that our hearts have grown so comfortable in. Cut the threads, set yourself free. We'll find new places, we'll find new homes. " (a.y)
Don't forget. Turn back around. Thanks Tim McGraw for acknowledging that it's okay to "get where you're going", to cut the "strings" finding new places and new homes, but its also okay to not forget and turn back around. It's the military way of life, to jam your memory bank with old and new. The idea of jumping back in time while facing forward, it's an honor. It's almost like when they were inventing military brats, they said "Here, juggle this foreign thing. Wait, check out this brand new thing. Hey, what about me? What's your name? Open this box full of memories in this clean blank slate room. Know your phone number, then your other number. Remember when..? Will you be here like you were last time?" It's like we find tragedy in leaving and tragedy in staying, until we realize it's not tragedy it's love. We love what we are leaving and we will love what is coming. I don't predict the future, but what is coming eventually becomes what we are leaving. I say we cut those strings, but we double knot tie them to a really safe strong tree.