The Time Machine

Stopped at the traffic light in front of the gate, I watched the lights turn from green to yellow to red and then from red to green. The broadcaster on NPR spoke in a monotone voice that created a lulling backdrop to my morning commute. The air was cool and crisp and the sun gazed down upon me, but with a cold shoulder. It was the first day that felt like fall.

Sitting there, I waited perhaps no more than 15 or 20 seconds, but like most of us do at a red light I rushed it. I wanted the light to change, to go-go-go, to get to the next thing, to hurriedly push the accelerator on my Hyundai Accent and to wish it reacted as if it had more than half a cylinder, and then to allow my mind to wander to a time when I might drive a car that actually goes. I realized how much time I spend wishing for time to go by, waiting and wishing for those times when I want time to stop. Ironically, sooner or later it will.

I wished just about every second of the last 15 month deployment by. I cherished the changing of the seasons, semesters and any other marker of the passage of time. I laid in bed at night wishing for the deployment to be over so that I could have my life back. I blamed the president, the terrorists, the Army, and Joe. I never realized that I could have had my life back, had I chosen to live it.

I admit that life is hard to live without Joe or whoever your Joe may be. Sometimes it's downright impossible. But over the months I have learned that it is easier to live than to cry and its less painful to take charge of your life than to let it drag you as the days go by.

During the last deployment I remember telling someone that having Joe gone felt as if my body was being ripped in half. I stand by that, and this time I often wonder why the gaping hole I feel in my chest is not visible in the mirror. I know that without Joe I am not whole, but rather than trying to patch that hole I'm holding it and trying to remember that without feelings of sadness, I wouldn't know what it meant to be happy.

For this reason I have stopped allowing my mind to drag me down the path of life ahead of my time. I've stopped wishing for a time machine.