Path

I longed to live an interesting life, being isolated in the petty destructiveness of my parent's home. I lived in a small circle of family- aunts and uncles, grandmothers, that we visited each week. I had my own narrow back yard, and the occasional neighborhood child for play, but never really friendship. I was deeply lonely and very alone. There was little money for entertainment, the Library was my consolation, and my first employer. Family vacations, car trips on a shoestring, took us far- Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, Appalachian Trail, Nova Scotia, all were a peek out to the wider world, but inevitably devolved into my father's ill temper and rages. Catholic high school, especially with bright classmates who were friends truly, allowed me to breathe for the first time. Still small and straited into parental expectations, I grew inside, had ideas about what I might be. I had the skills to study well, and endure much, and lurk inside myself until my path became clear. I was desperate to escape my naiveté, my narrow choices, my stifling safety.

I escaped up North to a radio station job, but failed, quit. Being more alone, with my parents trying to rescue me to feel important themselves, instead of letting me fall and find my own way, I crawled back. I used my scholarship toward a Theater degree, at Wayne State, learned about Shakespeare and standing up in front of others. No talent for acting, and I learned what I didn't want- relying for my livelihood on the constant approval of unpredictable others. Almost learned, I lived with and then married an entirely wrong 15 year older man, quit school, moved to where he had family in Salt Lake. I would never have thought of Utah on my own. I only knew I needed to get far far away from my parents, and Detroit. We neither of us had anything like job skills. He liked to spend money on himself. I desperately saved it. I worked several part time jobs at a time, modeling for art classes for cash, survey research, whatever. He got a job at the library because he went to school in Idaho with the personnel director, and I was hired shortly after- part time. I shelved books. Worked hard. There was a tax reduction initiative that threatened that small job, so I looked harder. Checked the want ads daily.

One ad said "Part Time, Earn money while you train. Money for school. Utah National Guard." I figured what the hell, if it was a good deal, I'd go for it. Took the ASFAB the next day, and by Friday I had raised my hand, and joined up. Didn't get really scared until right before I left. Had no idea. But it would change how my brain worked, permanently. Push me to limits I would have drawn much smaller. Get me away from a bad marriage. I was 26.

I met many interesting people, who had joined the Army for all kinds of odd reasons. D was the best. I thought him 17, but he was 20 when we first started talking. Bright, opinionated as men that age are, an unaccountably stretchy mind, given such narrow experience of life in Mormon suburban Utah. Emotionally insightful, though lacking the language to describe his truths. We got to know each other when we were sent off to Colorado Springs, then Saudi Arabia for Gulf War I. He was not easy to get to know, but he was generous and curious, unfailingly kind, loyal, warmly affectionate, he was who I needed to let me grow out of my hurts and distrusts. He had-has- the rare gifts of always being able to make me laugh, and of being comfortably silent. Sees nothing wrong in me, ever. Never turns his anger at me. Taught me not feed my anger.

With his indispensable support, I made it through nursing school. And my first year in surgery, which was harder than getting my degree. My work, which I love,has supported us while he got through his BA. And now he is in grad school here in Boston, as I do the traveling/agency nurse shtick, which gives us housing. I have cousins here, that I did not know I could count on, but who rescued us from a night on the floor of the train station, and have befriended us.

His friends, some which he has had since grade and high school, surround us. And they keep marrying into each other. So we stretch and strengthen our bonds. I have a non-genetic, but altogether real family. A family that opens up the world, instead of contracting in. We continue to grow together. And gather in more people.

My life, my mistakes and whimsical decisions, seem to have lead us to a place of great joy, and there seems to be more on the horizon. Perhaps Fate, an ineffable pattern forming. I stretch out, aspiring to be an intelligent, sophisticated, cosmopolitan, eccentric woman who has lived all over, fallen in love, broken my heart, been out on a number of limbs, seen transplants and traumas, deaths and births, thrown pots, danced, sang, gone to war, and is still often an idiot willing to try another adventure. I did want an interesting life. What the hell.