Thursday, March 25, 2010

Reporting for duty times 2

I left my wife last month. Correction, I left my home last month. Correction. I was locked out of my house last month. Long story and suffice it to say that the previous post eludes to what happened.
My wife left me about 15 years ago, not herself just her soul. We stayed together mainly because of fear. Fear of what would happen if we were alone, fear of not having enough money, fear of change, fear of having to look after our handicapped daughter alone, fear of leaving the handicapped daughter with the other. It was the daughter the really kept me there, sorry honey not the sweat pants and housecoat that were so appealing, donned as soon as you were in for the day.

I am working through this with a great bunch of helpers, friends, family, professionals et al. I have learned I must work through my fears and woes rather than simply move on, to move on is to ignore, forget and dishonor my feelings. To work through is to grow and be healthy.

One aspect of this is to be kind to yourself, and in the past I thought it was kind to move on, apparently that is not true, forgetting the past and letting it heal buries a foreign object that exacerbates the scar, a scar that you carry for the rest of your life. To be kind to your self you must remove the offending object and then let the healing begin.

Last night I attended the Air Cadets near my condo. I drove up to the building situated in a corner of the park that has an arena, a theatre (for stage plays) and a building dedicated for the cadets. As I got out of my car I saw a woman officer arriving and presented my self to her.

"Captain" I called as she wore the two strips of the rank on her shoulders. She turned and I said "Good evening Ma'am, my name is 'AJ............" and I am here to volunteer for your program." I was intentionally formal as there were several cadets waiting to be let into the locked building.
She looked at me a moment and then relooked at me and said "AJ .............. , I'm P....... K....... , we worked together in Nanaimo". As soon as the words were out of her mouth the woman in front of me transformed into the teenager I recalled from when I was stationed as a reserve officer, instructing gliding and flying tow planes in the summer off from college. PK was one of the cadets hired to help as support staff, secretarial office work, so we had been stationed in Nanaimo together 34 (did I say that out loud) years ago.
Protocol be damned, I stepped over and gave her a big hug, we talked about Nanaimo and listed all the names we could remember, you know the drill when you meet an old acquaintance or school chum and go through the memory row.

She introduced me to the other officers and after taking my name and email said that they dearly needed more warm bodies to help and to expect the standard criminal background checks, the security check and the harrasement course,(I have it on authority that I have already qualified on that front, just saying) and because I said I liked camping with kids, previously a beaver/cub scout leader) I suspect they will be fast tracking my application.

To move on, one forgets the past and is likely to repeat it, to work through is to face the scalpel of the soul but is in the end the kindest cut.

Take Care


Jonas said...

Working through is definitely the hard part. But it's true, what Alanis Morisette sings: "The only way out is through..."

AJ said...

Thanks Jonas, it is hard either way, the difference is the cargo that you take away.