storm troopers unite

I talked with my oldest son several times last week. I knew that the whole situation was going to be difficult for him. It was really hard for me due to the fact that he is so far from home now. I could hear the bewilderment and pain in his voice. I ached to be able to wrap my arms around him and somehow make the misery go away, if only for a little while. I have tried, believe me, but my arms simply won’t reach that far.
He found an apartment and made a deposit. He has to leave base housing since he will no longer be married. The new place is quite a bit farther away from base than he would like but it is nice. He got custody of Binx, their cat. Apparently he also retained custody of former grandmother-in-law, aunt-in-law and an old family friend. They all said that "she has lost her mind" and that she was "throwing away the best thing that ever happened to her". I’m glad that he won’t be totally alone. He did mention that it would be hard coming home to an empty house, no one waiting there for him. Rick is a lot like his daddy. They don’t necessarily want to interact with anyone but they want to know that the opportunity is there if the mood strikes. The end. You would think that something so painful and final would take more syllables to explain.
My husband took me away for the weekend as we had to take Michael to his monthly drill. The drill wouldn’t be so bad except for the fact that it takes place an hour away from our house. When we arrived home on Sunday evening I had one of the saddest messages waiting for me. It stated simply, "She’s gone. She got all teary eyed right before she left and that made me want to cry too. I just wanted you to know. It’s over."
I take some comfort from the fact that we did our best to welcome our daughter in law and her daughter, our sweet Kaylee, into our hearts and lives. I worried that we would never see Kaylee, our only grandchild, again. It lifted my spirits considerably when Lauren told me that "D" (daughter in law) asked if we were mad at her or if we hated her. Lauren told her, "No we don’t hate you. We will hunt you down if you hurt Rick, so don’t. We love you. Our love doesn’t have strings." I don’t think I could have said it better myself. Then "D" shocked me further by asking if maybe they could still come and see us sometime. I am glad I was sitting down for that one. Of course they are always welcome here, provided it doesn’t cause Rick any more pain.
I don’t know what she is looking for, what she is hoping to find. She can look all she wants, do what she wants as long as she isn’t hurting my son while she’s doing it. I want him to be happy. He deserves to have a peaceful home with someone who loves him without reservation or hesitation. Right now he just needs to focus on getting his life in order, moving into his new place and allowing his leg to heal. He is still on crutches at the moment. The last I heard it was snowing in New Mexico which means he has even more opportunity to do something silly. Ice and crutches are not a good combination.
Lately my emotions are bubbling just beneath the surface. Songs on the radio have a nasty habit of sneaking up on me and grabbing me by the heart strings. Before I know it tears are flowing freely. I have a dear, sweet, wonderful "sister of the heart" who has just lost her dad. I ache for her because my own pain is still fresh. I want to be there for her, with her but physical distance makes it impossible. If wishing could make it so, I would be with her at this moment.
Just between us, I am very much afraid that the security of my home has been breached. I am quite certain that we have been the victims of "testosterone poisoning". I don’t know if it is in the water or the chromosomes but it is there just the same. My daughter and I (along with Honey Bun, the female turtle) are living from one explosion to the next. There is so much chest thumping and other male related posturing that it is a bit difficult to breathe at times. It has to be bad because instead of cozying up to Sweetie (male turtle) in their little hide-away, Honey Bun chooses to crawl UNDER the bedding as far away from him as possible. Don’t get me wrong. I ADORE men. Little boys are so sweet and they do love their mamas. But there is just something about those "lose-your-ever-lovin’-mind-and any semblance of sanity" teenage years that have me feeling more than a bit defeated and fragile.
Seriously, I should be made of sterner stuff. Then again I don’t recall anyone (on either side of my family) having quite as many children as we do. My husband, on the other hand, is the youngest of 12 that his grandmother raised as her own. That woman was a "storm trooper" who controlled with an iron fist. I think that was figurative for the most part but I know for a fact that anyone foolish enough to cross her only did it once. I on the other hand was raised by the very essence of love, patience and light. My youngest sons have my saintly mother muttering some very strange things under her breath. I am seriously thinking about buying a storm trooper uniform. I need a new game plan or a much larger closet.