the winds of change

The wind heralded the coming of this storm all night long. As the trees outside my bedroom window contorted and danced with the force of a summer squall I laid awake for a short while listening, wondering. Sleep can be hard to come by under the best of circumstances in a house full of people and things... errands to do that did not get done, Paul to pay while robbing Peter, children to feed and clothe in a desperate economy. But when life upends itself and nothing seems to fall just as it should, nighttime is my own personal hell. The wind and my mind screamed as the man and the boys and the girl slept peacefully. My slumber finally came somewhere after realizing I was not asleep and sometime before realizing I was suffering yet again from the storm in my own head.
This summer has been a whirlwind of the strange and traumatizing and dramatic and life altering. It started with the burning of a belly, the ripping of a door, the loss of a beautiful life, the blood lust of two ticks, and the breaking of a hip. But really, it began long before any of that.
Dustin switched jobs during my pregnancy and subsequently lost his job due to our floundering economy one week before Taluelah was born. I was laid off from my job as an Instructional Aide the day after I went out on Maternity leave due to the unconscionable budget cuts California's schools are faced with. Dustin found work one week after our girl made her appearance. Unfortunately, Clark Pest Control does not pay enough to cover our very basic needs. We missed a house payment here and another there. Dustin tried dealing with the "Powers That Be" in an attempt to save our home and our simple way of life here in Kelseyville. He had no luck. So I came in with the big guns firing and made a small amount of progress with a new person every time I called our mortgage company. I called sometimes twice a week. It seems to me there are too many people employed by HSBC. We tried to go the route of the rate modification, to no avail. We sent money we didn't really have and it didn't make a dent. After a year of trying to save our home, we made the decision to move forward.
In these tough economic times it does not pay to be a carpenter. It does not pay to have your Branch 3 license and poke around people's homes in search of termites and other wood destroying pests. We can trudge through this life doing what we're told we ought to or we can step outside the proverbial box and follow our heart's desire, even if it's not what others believe we should do. Just because I don't understand something and cannot fathom the desire to perform a certain job or live in certain danger does not make another person's desire of said experience any less real or important.
Dustin and I sat down to discuss what we might do to dig ourselves out of the hole we have so irreversibly slid down into as homeowners. I applied at a couple of the local establishments early on in summer but received no callbacks. We live in the sticks. There are few opportunities. Whatever company Dustin would potentially be hired by would have to provide a work vehicle and (unless his pay significantly increased) a gas card. Our expenses are quite minimal. No credit cards. No car payment. No extravagances. We just need enough money to feed our children and cover our heads. We decided that putting our house on the market was the most obvious next step... let's see if anyone else wants to live in a shoebox. But what then?
I have known for 9 years that if I were to ask Dustin one simple question our lives would change in monumental ways. Dustin left the employ of the United States Marine Corps 9 years ago in July. He didn't want to leave but when faced with the ultimatum of family or Corps he chose his family. He has yearned for the uniform since the day he last took it off. A uniform worthy of respect... as he claims. So I asked.
I could see the weight of nine years of struggling to pay the bills, job insecurity, and inadequate health benefits begin to lift off Dustin's shoulders when he realized I was opening the door for him to pursue the life he left behind so many years ago. The relief on his face was palpable. I knew all I had to do was ask. Dustin has been waiting 9 years for my permission. No wonder there has been some resentment. It is not my place to stop my husband from doing what he has always wanted to do.
Once the obstacle of my obstinance was removed Dustin had other obstacles to overcome. Being a former Marine, he of course went to the Marine Recruiter. It took a few days to discover that he would not be able to reenter the Marines due to the tattoo on the back of his neck. The bar code with the boys birth dates that sits above Dustin's second vertebrae falls under the visible tattoo ban that the Marine Corps now has. Things have changed in the last 9 years. I thought perhaps that would be the end of Dustin's military aspirations. He informed me that there was always the Army. I have lived with a man who for the last 12 years has expatiated upon the superiority of the United States Marine Corps. My boys have been taught that ARMY is an acronym for "Aren't Ready to be Marines Yet." The Air Force are the Chair Force. The Navy, floating taxi cabs. I never thought I'd see the day when Dustin would pursue a military career with any other branch than the Marine Corps.
Dustin spoke with and met the Army recruiter and began the process of reenlisting. First, Dustin had to reduce his body fat by losing 3 inches off his waist. I feed him well, what can I say? He was to lose these 3 inches in a week and a half. We were going camping on our yearly trip to Richardson Grove right in the middle of this body fat reduction mission. I really didn't think it was possible.
Dustin ran. He does NOT run. Dustin didn't drink beer. He drinks beer. Dustin ate a whole heckuva lot less. He can eat a whole heckuva LOT. Dustin worked hard and in a matter of that week and a half proved to me what I've always known. He wants this. BAD.
I took Dustin to Ukiah to leave with the recruiter for Sacramento last Sunday. He went to MEPS (Military Entry Processing Site) early Monday and was informed that he'd lost 3 inches off his waist and 12 lbs. His body fat ratio was well within the acceptable range. He passed his physical. A dependent waiver was missing from his packet. He came home. In order to be granted the dependent waiver he needed me to write a letter stating that I support my husband's choice to join the Army and why and that I am capable of taking care of our family in his absence. Dustin had to write a letter explaining why he wanted to join the Army and who would take care of his family in the case that any hardship befalls me in his absence.
Writing my letter put the amount of support I really have for this potential next chapter of our lives AND my husband's role in it to the test. I enjoy writing. I didn't enjoy life as a military wife. I am fairly certain the truth of how I feel comes across in my written word. The letter I wrote could make or break this opportunity.
I wrote my letter and I wrote honestly. Why would my husband make a good soldier? Because it's all he's ever really wanted to do. Why would I support my husband's choice to rejoin the military and in doing so elevate the potential of my being a single mother to wartime proportions? Because his passion is enough to persuade me to put this in the hands of a higher good and accept that life is an adventure that no one should be stopped from experiencing in his own way. And of course I am capable of taking care of our three wonderfully amazing children in his absence. I am Mom. The letters, mine and his, were well received. The dependent waiver and the other contents of his packet were approved.
Dustin is to return to Ukiah this Sunday once again to make the trip to Sacramento. On Monday he will pick his job and sign his contract and he will have rejoined the United States military. This time as an Army man. Where and when we go is to be determined. He may have to go back to the Army's 9 week Basic Training. He may just go to a 4 week reintro course. The kids and I will be home in Kelseyville during that time. From there we will find out what new home we are off to as a family.... Hawaii? New York? Colorado? Oklahoma? Italy? Germany? Destination... anywhere but here.
Some may wonder how Dustin could do this now that he has a family. Some may say he isn't a young guy without attachments anymore. Dustin was a Marine before I married him. He was an infantry Marine. He wanted to stay in the military as an infantry Marine at the end of his initial four year enlistment. I stood in the way. He loved me and our family enough to walk away from the one thing he had always been sure about in his life, his desire to wear that uniform and support our country. When I asked Dustin why he was in the Marines when I first met him he said, "I was born to be in the military." While it's nothing you or I can understand, it is. I love him enough to let it be. Finally.