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[betsyboodad]

Second Childhood

I am one who laughed at older people buying toys like convertibles, motorcycles and the like. I was one of the derogatory guys who called it a second childhood. 

As it turns out I was correct, having the time and toys to play with give us who are no longer kids a second go round at childhood and being kids at heart. 

I remember the feeling I had when I would zip downhill on a long street on those glorious summer days. I payed no regard to the time, had no one to answer to, felt the breeze and the thrill of speed and  and enjoyed perfect freedom. It created a carefree, "go for it", "who cares?" attitude and feeling. One I loved then and as it turns out love now.

It occurred to me as I was zipping around in my "vert" with the top down, and the music up as the summer sun shined on me that I had the same feelings I did as a 13 year old. Those days on my first 3 speed, running the streets and hills are treasured memories. What is surprising is that the  feelings of a 13 year old is back.

My wife and at least one of my daughters will read this and note that I never out grew my boyhood anyway.

So here is to all those old coots I disparaged who were having their second shot at childhood and are probably laughing out loud as I discover what they already knew.

[betsyboodad]

Comfort

There is comfort in our experiences

For over 64 years I have been accustomed to the sounds, sights, smells and behaviors on various military bases, posts and stations. This has been true from Air Force bases in Texas, New Hampshire, Nebraska and Guam; Army Posts in Virginia, Georgia and the Carolinas; Marine Corps bases in Virginia, North Carolina, Japan;to forward operating areas in SW Asia and Africa

There is a familiarity in the smell of cordite from artillery, the fumes of kerosene from aircraft, the smell of cooking from the mess halls. There are expectations when hearing the sounds of F-4s, A-6s, A-4s, B47, and B52s winding up and launching. There is a comfort in the routine of morning and evening colors when all traffic stops, people stand at attention and face the music or flag and salute or cover their heart. There is an unconscious awareness in the sounds of the bugle calls for reveille, church call, retreat and taps which awakened me, alerted me, reminded or lulled me to sleep. It was easy to be a child and to have children who know that in their community the parents all have shared standards and expectations for behavior and conduct. It was unique to be part of a set of families who understand the professional interdependencies of the military culture which support attainment of common goals. Over time I have experienced other sounds, sights, smells and behaviors. Some are quaint reminders of small town America - like the alerts of sirens for tornadoes, calls for the rescue squad or to announce the noon hour. Others are reminders of where you live, like the smell of agricultural and the hum of rush hour traffic. Yet others are universal across our country like the peal of the church bells, the buzz of the police helicopters, and the wail of police, fire and rescue sirens. But none of these hold the comfort of a bugle call. Sometimes I am asked what I miss most since retiring from the Marine Corps. That is a great question, but not the one I have an answer for today. The answer I have today is for this question: "What do you miss most about living in a military community on a military base?" The answer is: "those sounds, sights, smells and behaviors that are unique to bases, posts and stations around the world that give me comfort and remind me of my roots in a military family. They remind me of good times and bad, people I have known and have been in comradeship with and the heroes I have walked after, with and before who share a common set of values and experiences.

[betsyboodad]

Right sizing

Years ago I swore that we would never have a garage sale. They are time consuming, weather dependent and generally a time and labor suck. In my opinion, backed by experience, garage sales are the least efficient way to dispose of excesses and are quite ineffective by any measure. They have been replaced by on-line tools like Craig's List and e-Bay. But, unlike the on-line methods, they are a great way to meet interesting people although in my case I have plenty of  peculiar friends who make reality TV personalities look normal.

Ideally, our next sale to reduce our clutter would have been called an estate sale and would have been our children's problem. Our contingency plan was that until there is a need for an estate sale we would donate things that we no longer need so they could meet the needs of others. We felt very altruistic about that approach.

We do not think of ourselves as gatherers but after being in the same house for 13 years the reality is that we are. This habit has been magnified by the consolidation of furniture and household items from a second home that we have had for 7 years.

Back to the approaching garage sale. These sort of things can be fun, or so I have been told. They can serve multiple purposes at the same time, they can generate cash, the help reduce clutter and they re-purpose things that are someone else can put to good use

We have decided that our goal is very simple and focused. Our goal is to reduce the number of things we have so that we can actually live in our house instead of having it feel like the next episode of "Hoarders". It is not to build a retirement fund, finance a new car, pay for grand-children's education, or to buy more, different stuff.

The execution of the sale is where it gets tricky. Remember that the goal is to get rid of things so that at the end of the day everything is gone, there is no putting stuff away for the next time.

In a perfect world someone will show up, early and say "I want it all, let's load it up" What is going to happen is that someone will show up before dawn, offer to buy half of a salt and pepper set for a nickel and need change for her $50 bill. I can hardly wait. 

[betsyboodad]

The quiet house

Consequences can cut both ways. I speak of the hush that falls over our house whenever our daughters leave for the day or after an extended visit. There is a calm quiet, a chance to catch a breath but there is also an emptiness and longing for a return to the comfort of being surrounded by those we love.

Today the younger of our two heads off to Dublin where she will work on her master's degree. Since she arrived last month  the house has been filled with laughter, conversation and as we say in Nebraska"visiting". Her all too short time here has  increased sister, niece and nephew visits along with the accompanying laughter, music,conversation,family meals, appeals for attention and squeals of happiness.

That will change today. The biggest change will not be the decibel level nor the number of people at the table or in the room. It will be the emptiness of the heart, the resounding echo of emptiness caused by absence.