Wednesday, August 14, 2013

So close, so far

Another late night drive home. An evening of reffing before retreating to my home.

As I cruise home on a lonely highway, I can see the mountains outlined to my west. Tiny house lights scattered across the slope, they look like fire flies sparkling in the night sky.

Sparkle....

Sparkle....

A sparkle, according to my daughter, is what little girls are before they are born and after they die. Twinkles are little boys. My daughter's explanation to the creation and passing of life. An explanation so simple yet so creative. And far deeper and wiser than her few years should allow. May she remain so as she grows.

This thought of my daughter causes me to turn my head from the west. Before me lies the sleeping shadow of North Table Mountain. And to the east? Out over the suburban glow of Denver. Out into the plains through Kansas. Out to Missouri where my wife, my love, first attended college and I once visited.

My wife, the trooper. Trucking our family across this vast nation by herself. Manning the helm whilst entertaining the children, feeding them, consoling them and watching over them. 

Missouri where my family lies asleep at the Lake of the Ozarks. So close...I feel I could reach them across the plains through the inky darkness tonight. Hold them in my arms as they sleep. Yet...so far. Still two days of traveling before the return home to Colorado.

I want them here now. To crack the doors as I return home and check on each sleeping love. And to slip silently into bed beside my wife as I retire from the day. 

Safe travels.

Enjoy the visits.

See you soon.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Time - Part Deux

I received a message from my brother-in-law yesterday. Which means he is home. Safe. A welcome relief always.

Beyond the safe return of one of my best friends, my brother, this also marks a changing of the guard, if you will. This morning, I went to my armoire, pulled out a different watch, wiped off the dust and briefly shook it to wind it up.

Wearing a watch has become a daily routine. Losing my watch, asking the kids where it may be and finding it is all part of said routine. Often, the conversation with Emi is simply, "Emi, have you seen my black watch?" The answer is almost always, "Yes, I put it somewhere safe."

The safe place often changes. But my watch is almost always there. Sometimes the watches go missing for a bit longer only to show up in a sock drawer months down the road. It's all part of the fun.

While I was in Boston, my dear friend Fibby asked about the watch on my wrist. Commented that she had not seen it before. It made me smile before I answered.

It was quite some time ago that I wrote this post regarding my new watch. I still have this watch. I still wear it every game day when I have to put on a suit. There are several watches in my armoire now. Each one tells a story, has a purpose, each may even be a talisman. I'll save most of those stories for another time and simply tell the story of two.

There is a silver Seiko I have which is part of a set purchased for all the men in my family several Christmases ago. Each of us have the same watch. Hopefully, it gives each of us a connection every morning when we wake up and put on our watch...that each of us is doing the same thing at one moment, even thousands of miles apart. This Seiko connection goes further back to my Grandfather, my Dad's Dad, as he had a gold Seiko he wore every day.

This is the watch I pulled out this morning. Dusted off. Wound up. Reset. With thoughts of my father, my two brothers and my Grandfather. But it isn't the watch Fibby had asked about in Boston.

The watch I was wearing in Boston was a gift to me from my brother-in-law who so recently returned. It is a watch he was given, a gift from the army during a competition. When he generously handed it to me, I began wearing whenever I rode his motorcycle, since, in my mind, the two seemed to go together. When I purchased my bike, I continued to wear his watch whenever I climbed on the bike. It just seemed right. Whether it is a good luck thing or purely a habit, it is certainly a talisman.

And then, when he deployed, I began wearing it every day. As a reminder of his service to our country. As a reminder that our country is still fighting a war abroad. As a reminder that he is in harm's way.

But he is back now. His watch goes into my armoire, only to be pulled out for motorcycle rides. And I wear a reminder of my family on my wrist.