Tag Archives: divorce

Let me fall

by in Gulf Coast, Jojo, Journey, Little Man, Prepare to Crossover and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink

Our family was no different from any other family in America.  Hard work, success, loss here, a failure there.  Bills, vacations, cars, vans and trucks.  Houses, garages, back yards with neighbors, the beach,  Halloween, Christmas, Grand parents and cousins.  A sporting event here. concert there.  9/11 and war.  Report cards, bonuses, overtime and loss of work.  High school graduation and college bills.  Worse, death in a family and divorce, the failure of the family.  Life moves on.  Not so easy.

Adults can manage what life throws at us and will.  Children new to the experiences of extreme losses, deal real-time.  Few things if any overwhelm parents more than the children.  One repeated lesson I’ve learned is how our children are resilient.  What was daunting as a child is forgotten as a teenager, yet it never fails to stay seared deep in the minds of the parents.

My son, waited for me to leave the military and return home.  He was seven years old the day I arrived.  He jumped in my arms shrieking with joy and shared all the plans he had for us.  To read more, please click this link:  Let me fall

Defiance

by in Gulf Coast, Jojo, Journey, Prepare to Crossover, The Bike and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink

To love is defiance. Go against the grain, opposite of the world around you. Call it being stuck or too focused, I don’t care. It is what it is. She’s on my mind everyday all day. These thoughts are motivating one moment, down right upsetting the next. Meaning I find myself wanting to talk to her again sharing with her the good things in life. Next, I’m realizing how far removed we are from each other, there appears no chance we will reconnect. Regardless, I choose to take this path. It is my decision to want to have feelings for Jojo. More than once I’ve tried to give up, naturally within myself is something that refuses to quit.

Knowing she is not married yet is nothing less than inspiring. There is a chance. A chance for anything in this world. Why so many people have gone off and pursued things in this world that were impossible to others. I knew from the beginning it would be next to impossible to retrieve a new relationship with Jojo. The odds were stacked against me. Had I chosen to stay with her, she would have witnessed me as a married man try to start a life with her. Later, in the worst of times with Jojo, she would have seen me as less of a man lacking loyalty. The effort would have failed.

Tell me not to want her. Tell me to go away, to return to my home and start a new life. I will tell you in return to piss off and take the high road. My intent was to recover remnants of a past life with a purpose to recover my son and build a better life with someone new. Someone who earned my trust and respect. Someone, at the end of the day, I simply fell for.

Had I…ah, the past doesn’t matter much. Only for the lessons learned will the past matter. That’s exactly what I’m trying to convey, is how if I had done anything different, I would have compromised myself and everything I believed in. Going after my son first is, was and will always be the right thing. Had I not done that, I would not be here typing. Instead, I would be dust dissolved in some far off waters or found crumbling in mud within some hidden dump. If a pistol to the temple or dextromethrophane to the kidney did not take me, the great man above would have found a way.

All I can relate her to is … beauty. Yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. When you experience Jojo, you will certainly feel the same way. You want to be a part of her and share something with her. She is dynamic, alive and a giving woman who carries herself with confidence. Being so attractive, she’s confidently able to walk everywhere with her head held high.

This woman is that impressive…she would endure rides on the bike for over 12 hours. Not complaining or whining wanting to go home or stop. She wanted to live life to the fullest. To the point, I taught her how to ride the Harley on her own. Watching her learn was amusing and fun. She took control of the bike, let out a shriek scream and went with it. On that abandoned runway, she commanded that 600lb bike and took off pushing through the gears where the transmission begged to be shifted higher and higher.

For now, rarely when I look up do I see women who capture my attention and set off the internal fire of attraction. If they are attractive, then they lack personality, even intelligence and humor. Or, too dramatic, whine even judge others.

I don’t know, they simply are not this woman. The woman I”ve chosen to love, respect and pursue.

Warriors, unspoken truth, silent code

by in Journey, Prepare to Crossover and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink

From the start, I wanted to find these people. People I knew would be there for me and my family when we are most challenged even threatened. For us, a code of silence protected our community and still does. The purpose is to protect national security, for us, most importantly, this silence defends our families and preserves our way of life. Would these individuals be there for my family when they need help. As far back as I can remember, I knew I would do the same for those people.

The very dedication and loyalty I hold for my own family, I would give to them as well. To the point, if one of our family become threatened or worse, hurt, in the worst case scenarios, we would go as far as finding those responsible and bring them …justice. No matter if it took a day, weeks, months and yes, even years. We are that focused and patient. Taught in selection and training, we are capable of setting a task, goal or objective in our minds and not let go until it is completed.

What I mean is we wouldn’t carelessly go out and kill an individual. We would find them and everyone associated with them bringing them back to authorities. I repeat, we wouldn’t kill first. Instead, we would put the fear of God in them where they wished they were dead. Proof of this is how we are part of the groups who have hunted down Al Qaeda capturing or killing 80% of their leaders and people.

To understand more, please go to Warriors…unspoken truth, silent code..

Choices of loyalty

by in Gulf Coast, Jojo, Journey, Little Man, Prepare to Crossover, The Bike and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink

A song about my journey. The choice to walk away from his mother, falling in love with Jojo.  The choice of my son.

Not once did I ever compromise loyalty. Without his mom, I’m ok. Without Jojo, I’m less of a man. With my son, I am the man

Highway 20 Ride, posted with vodpod

War, PTSD and Metallica Unforgiven 3

by in Gulf Coast, Jojo, Journey, Little Man, Prepare to Crossover, The Bike and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink

 

Returning to America alone from war in Kandahar, Afghanistan and Iraq found me home without a house and family welcoming me home. Six months remaining in the military. throughout the days and nights, I became resentful of everyone I had worked for.  Angry for failing to take care of my family, both accepting responsibility yet blaming others, I became furious at my ex-wife for choosing to leave and putting me in a position I would have to decide on the mission or my family.  Angry at her because our marriage was about to fall apart anyway.  She took my son with her.

Choosing to get away, I spent my days and nights purposely avoiding work, riding my motorcycle for up to 12-16 hours at a time. I didn’t care, no one else cared.

Riding along the gulf coast of Florida, I met the new Jojo. By accident, unexpectedly, at 16, the new Jojo grew and matured while I was away to welcome me home. To be brief, over those six months we rode together everyday and night…

To read more, please click here: War, PTSD and Metallica Unforgiven 3.

Enya and Al Qaeda – Christmas 2001 – O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

by in Journey, Little Man, Prepare to Crossover and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Permalink

Yes, I agree.  Enya mixed with the War on Terror, or, Overseas Contingency Operations (OCO) is strange.  Just shut up and go with me on this.  There are reasons to my madness.

Imagine having the honor of being one of the first to go forward and defend this country.  There are so few, you find the little things to be a luxury.  Like toilet paper, cigarettes, coffee, magazines and newspapers and most importantly, letters from home.

Imagine you took over a city, it’s airport and the surrounding area.  Your team secured everything now waiting for replacements.  One night, just before Christmas, you wait for the Marines to arrive.  Over the horizon from the surrounding desert, you see the rise of dust as the oncoming armada of “Devil Dogs” approach the city. Leading them into your area, you release this group of warriors to take over.  It’s here you finally find a break to catch your breath and rearm/refit.

Christmas 2001, weeks following 9/11 at Kandahar, Afghanistan.  On the brink of divorce, my son’s mother and I overcame many infidelities, barely holding on to our marriage.  That year we left our son Little Man (Age 5) behind in America with relatives and separately made our way to Oman and Kandahar, Afghanistan.  As a surprise for both of us, other warriors set up a trip where my ex-wife met me in Kandahar.  We shared Christmas where she brought with her this Enya song.  A bizarre mixture of Irish music with scenery of war in Afghanistan.  I will never forget this song.  It rings over and over seared in my mind.  Memories of war seem frozen in time forever carried in your brain.

I remember Christmas night she and I shared a dinner of Meals Ready to Eat (MRE) of Spaghetti and hot chocolate/coffee.  We found ourselves talking all night long about our Little Man.

That night at the Kandahar, Afghanistan Airport, we cleaned out a bombed out building at one point laying in the middle of the night on top of broken glass from a window.  Despite the crunching and crushing glass, we found ourselves alone for the first time in almost six months.  That night we stayed together making love all night.  After weeks of fighting, that night was our first source of peace in months.

The following morning, as she lay asleep, I remember having head phones on listening to this song.  Staring at my ex, I had hints of falling back in love with her.  It appeared from our view point, the experience of 9/11 and our work brought the two of us back together.  Despite all the conflict, arguments and hatred for each other, we always loved each other.  Watching her sleep, I was alone to contemplate what the future was bringing our family.

What was supposed to be an overnight visit turned out to be six days together.  For just a year afterwards, we enjoyed a return to a strong family.  However, follow on deployments led us to barely hold on until two years later we eventually divorced.  The final straw, our marriage ultimately collapsed under the strain of war.  We screwed ourselves going into battle, yet we worked hard to make it work.  Due to our choices we became a casualty of war.