blurry but beautiful

I wander around in the rose garden pausing to snap photos. For a brief period of time, I'm not looking over my shoulder -- only through the viewfinder. Other than the birds and the cicadas it is quiet. No loud noises. No shouts. Nothing to make me jump out of my skin.

Stopping a rosebush, I force myself to stand still and stop rocking from foot to foot. Frame the shot, focus the sweet spot, press the shutter. Except my hands just can't stop shaking. The camera picks up every tiny tremor.

Cameras don't lie.

trying to heal

I am in the same time zone as my mother, and I have refused to see her for two weekends in a row now. My parents are coming next weekend -- I can't delay the inevitable.

I jump at my own shadow. At car horns blowing unexpectedly. When someone comes up behind me.

My hands shake. What were once smooth movements, mindless things to do now are jerky and take more concentration. Writing. Typing. Using a mouse. Eating with chopsticks. What's worse is that I'm not entirely sure if it's from the medication or something else.

It's not unusual for me to see injured veterans here. Some have more than one prosthesis. Some are badly scarred. Many casts, many wheelchairs, many canes.

When the plane landed and liaisons, chaplains, medical personnel and unloading crew where pouring in, someone asked me what happened to me. Why am I here. It's a question that's following me everywhere these days.

I don't want to talk about it.

And this is not how I imagined my return to the States.

the great coming home query

I had a conversation earlier today with a friend back home. Curious, she asked me a series of questions. I've expanded upon my answers here.

When will you be home?

Soon, but not soon enough.

Are you excited to come home?

I guess. It's a big change. I've been away from home for a year. My friends here won't be a short bus ride, a phone call away. Here I have a nice little routine going, and I have very few things to worry about.

Do you miss home?

Yes. But there have been many changes. For example, my brother has moved out, married, and had a son -- not necessarily in that order. Which means that I have a nephew that I have yet to meet. My peers at my civilian job have moved on to internships or beginnings of careers. They won't be there joking around and slowly bringing one of Bossman's latest creations to life. I haven't been the greatest in staying in touch with my civilian friends, and I can think of only a few that actually know when I'm coming home. And the baby cousins that I cherish are going to have grown so much. I'm still afraid that they won't recognize me.

On the other hand, I miss my mom and I am not embarrassed to admit that. Calling her frequently isn't the same as sitting down for her homemade Sunday breakfasts together. I miss stumbling upon rabbits and squirrels in my backyard. I miss riding behind my dad on his motorcycle. I miss walking through the very alive park-like campus green. I miss the gentle lilt of French professor's accents. I miss flying with Bossman. I miss the dome, the not-always-working-perfectly equipment, the inky darkness, the art of creating a show. All of that -- and more -- is home to me.

I want to get back into the swing of things, even though I know it will be a difficult and possibly painful process.

Do you like being in the military?

I'm proud to have served over here in the sandbox. It was something that may have never happened because of where I was and what I did before I volunteered for this. The unit I came from -- a band unit -- is very proud to have us over here as well.

What about your friends from home?

I haven't kept in contact with more of them like I would have liked to. I am definitely looking forward to catching up with them. However, I doubt that many of them can really understand what this deployment thing is all about.

That's okay. That's why I have my friends from over here, with whom I will hopefully keep up correspondence better.

When are you going to Europe?

My State just adopted a new policy, and my unit will be the first one affected by it. We still don't have drill for 90 days, but we have a recall at 30 and 60 days so we can be given the opportunity to have a medical and mental health check-up as well as help if we need it. I have to plan around that, if I am going to Europe.

Driver already bought airline tickets and is planning to in Europe for two months. We were still planning on traveling part of the way together.

If I go, I will only be in country from two to four weeks which is shorter than my original plan. And I need time with my family first.

Plans for school?

This November I'll enroll for the Spring semester. I have two classes to retake, and lots more to catch up on. With luck, I'll have a kind soul or two who will guide me through the paperwork required.

Are you going work at the planetarium when you return?

Because it's a student job, I won't be able to work for money until I return to class. But I know that I'll be welcomed with open arms (and special projects) if I come in before then.

the mandatory medical update

Three scopes, countless pelvic exams, pictures and video of a handful of organs, two scars, two trips off base, one teary night in the hospital ward, several prescriptions, and nearly two months later I can now say that all of the scary stuff has been ruled out.

Which means that "I'll help you have a baby" is now in the Lame Pick-Up Lines Hall of Fame.

Nice try, guys.