Thursday, April 14, 2011

The end is nigh, the noise is high

I leave this place in five days. Five. days. I haven't packed anything but cold weather gear and the end to the cruise book is close, but not quite. I've spent 90% of my last 2 weeks hunched over a computer doing layout and ignoring the fact that there are still a billion things left to do before I leave. Like packing. And sending stuff home. And doing that LPO turnover binder. And finishing the cruise book. And the meeting with the XO. And mentoring a junior sailor. And working out. And calling the guy about the thing for the order form things. And sleeping eventually. And maybe eating something besides tuna packets and candy. Oh, and this sore throat that I'm sure will develop into something more sinister right before I leave. It's all noise. A series of clangs and clacks and booms of lists that demand that I pay attention this way, no that.

And then I call home...

And eventually I talk to the Bug. And then all I hear is her. Her sweet soft voice and occasional exclamatory remarks mute the noise brought on by the lists. I know that everything here is irrelevant, because all I hear is her...

And then I hang up and the noise resumes. But only for five more days.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

On dreams, memories, and death

I haven't dreamt about my sister in a long time. When she died, I would dream about her at least once a week. Then the frequency of the dreams waned until just now I realized that I haven't dreamt about her. I'm beginning to forget the sound of her voice. My memories of her have begun to fade, like the dissipation of cigarette smoke. All that's left is a sense of longing and regret.

Is forgetting a way for our mind to heal? Is the loss of memories a numbing salve for our brain? We hurt and after time we forget. All that's left are scars from the past. But scars fade with enough time, and given enough time, so do memories. I fear that my memory of her is fading as the years go by. I'm rambling and with enough emotion, my writing suffers. But I need that emotion. I need to remember her, no matter how much it hurts. I need to remember her because if I don't, then she'll really be gone.

It's time like these when I actually wished I believed in the afterlife.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Deployment--a manifesto

There is a string that ties me to you and you to me.
A string that no one can see,
A string that keeps my wandering soul from wandering too far,
A line that keeps me grounded, a northern star
that guides me back to where I came from:

A place in time where your neck smells like blankets on a Saturday morning.
The gum in your hair, exposed skin on your knees
The moment when you realized you shouldn't have climbed that tree
But you did anyway (No, wait that was me)

The heart in your toast
The char in your heart
that results from the feeling that I'm not there
(I am, I swear)

There may be things that you may not count on, but count on this--
I will leave.
But no matter how many times I may leave you,
I will never go farther than the string between you and me
And I will always return