Vultures circling

Shadows of thoughts are haunting me, teasing me with their whispers that I can’t quite make out. Yet I know they are there. I hear them inside my mind as I see their memories, glimpses and clips of what once was. The thoughts circling my mind like vultures in the sky, I know they will attack at any moment and force my sanity to run for cover, or what’s left of it, at least. All around me are weeds of bitter memories threatening to overtake the softer, more vulnerable parts of me,  the blossoms of hope where around it is desolation and loneliness.  

I was prepared for this life, you know. The constant moving and new people, rules and regulations, conformity among uniforms. I was a daughter, born and raised within the Military. A part of me always knew that I’d marry a Serviceman (and although my father was air force, I’d always been partial to Marines) but after a failed relationship with a Soldier and the loss of the only Marine I’d ever been able to love, I had given up that dream. I still expected my father to walk me down the aisle one day, but that day would never come.

On October 27^th, 2009, I had my entire life changed. That was the day my father, TSgt Charles T. Gose, died. Not even two years ago and every day I miss him. Every day I look at his flag that I received on my twenty-second birthday in Honor of his unfailing service. He was supposed to retire the next month. I remember when I got the news. I was so incredibly unprepared for it. I thought I died. In my heart, I suppose I did, at least for a while. I slept all day, not even caring about myself, only getting up to make meals and fix snacks and change diapers. I didn’t clean, I didn’t brush my hair and I didn’t eat for nearly a week.

At first, it was this cold, blinding pain. When a daughter loses her father, especially one who was always proud of him, who was planning his retirement surprise, who loved him beyond any other human (besides her own children), she doesn’t see it coming. The shock of it was the hard part. It came so close to my birthday (I was to turn twenty-two in just five days).  When the funeral was scheduled for my birthday, I didn’t even care. I’d lost the best man in my life, my Daddy, my one constant hero, no matter what. I know he loved me unconditionally and I lost so much of myself when I lost him.

 For six months I was so lost. I finally managed to make it back to my feet and back to being a mother, but at the time I was in an unhealthy relationship and that ended on March 1, 2010. When we ended, I was broken. I had lost my father and I’d lost the only man I relied on since and it hurt. But with encouragement from my friend, Kelsy, I started going on dates (nothing serious, just a few dates that led nowhere) and at the same time, I’d registered for a pen pal program with Military. Through that, I met my friend, Eric and my love, Steve. (I recently introduced Eric to my friend Megan and I see amazing things in their future).

 Steve was amazing, funny and smart; compassionate and caring; kind and generous; understanding and romantic. I really liked him from the start. He made me laugh and listened to me cry on days where I was upset and did his best to make me smile. In July, we met face-to-face and spent an incredible few days together, but he left and we made no promises except to write letters and consider each other.

He never stopped trying though. He sent flowers, a beautiful bouquet of white lilies, while I was preparing for my move back to the states. He wrote me letters and I wrote him back. He called me every week and we talked as much as possible, considering where he was. I told him that I would wait for him and that I had been without the promise and he was so happy.

In January, after Lily’s fourth birthday, we had R&R, which was absolutely amazing. We decided then that I would move to Louisiana and be settled for when he came home, despite his previous feelings of not wanting to live with a woman he wasn’t married to. (Which leaves me wondering…  when… if?) When he drove back to the airport (he rented a car) and we said our goodbyes, we were both in tears. I couldn’t fight them off. I’d finally told him I loved him during our time together. And it hurt so much to let him go that I held on to him for over  an hour. It broke my heart to know he was just not there beside me anymore. I went back inside and I cried until a friend stopped by.

In March, I moved to Louisiana and it took a long time to get my furniture and with two kids 4 and under, it was the toughest move of my life. All alone and nothing in my house to keep them busy. A month later, my stuff finally arrived and April was a month of insanity to me, missing him, trying to get a life started here, picking up a creepy stalker instead. I spent my time alone, doing schoolwork and playing with my kids, mostly instead.  I also got attacked by some crazy bitch in April.

May brought Steve’s promotion and news of Osama Bin Laden’s death on the same day. I planned a playdate (which I will do again as soon as I feel better) and overall things improved a little. Except that I started feeling rundown.

Now it’s June and I really still feel sad. Memorial day weekend brought my Father’s death back into focus and I spent the whole weekend crying randomly.  My son turns three on Tuesday which is also bizarre to me. 

Next month is my first 4^th of July in the states since 2004. And it feels sad to think that I’m celebrating it with no one. My father is gone and my mother… well, needless to say the day my father died, she did to. (deep thoughts). My brothers and friends are scattered across this world with the Military and Steve is deployed.  I do have my children who will happily celebrate a holiday they get their face-painted and balloons from. Plus the fireworks should be visible from the house (or so Steve says). Other things are happening next month, including me going insane preparing for his homecoming. I wish he was here already so I didn’t have all that time to think and over-analyze and worry and fear. 

So soon the Knight in his dirtied camo armor will return to his redneck duchess in faded denim and flannel. He’ll come back from war, alive and safe, unharmed, to a household full of people who love him. The young princess sleeps with the picture of her Knight and her brother and the young prince is ready to give up his role as man-of-the-house to him. Their mother, his love, waits and every night sleeps alone, until he comes back home, back to her arms. She will finally feel safe and loved again soon, when his arms are folded around her and she hears his heart beat. Soon the Knight will return from war to a family awaiting him.

And I’m scared, because I've been through so much pain already and I finally found the one man who accepted all my flaws and faults, helped encourage me to gain my confidence, allowed me time to heal and come to grips on what happened before him. And now, my worst fear is that he won’t love me anymore….

The vultures come full circle, snacking on these feelings like field mice. I sit quietly here, alone, with these thoughts and so many more left unsaid, in the safety of the darkness the words hide from that which would destroy the remnants of my sanity.