What a difference a few days can make!

[aadler]

 
Okay. I went on the Alaska cruise. Had a wonderful time. Didn’t see any whales (except for what might have been the back of one just breaking the water), any seals or otters (at least, not up close; there was one head bobbing above the water in the distance), bears or moose (outside an injured-animal refuge). Deer, yes, and plenty of eagles. Susan really wanted to see puffins, but again those just weren’t where we traveled.

For anyone considering an Alaska cruise, I’ll say this: determine first whether you’re more interested in the cruise, or in seeing Alaska. The cruise was a wonderful, luxurious experience … but, if I had it to do again, I’d cruise the Mexican Riviera or the Caribbean, and do interior tours of Alaska. For all that, I don’t regret it a bit.

So, the whole “on the one hand, on the other hand” deal:

• On the one hand, I went on a cruise.


• On the other hand, it was with my ex-wife.


• On the one hand, the two of us fell totally in love.


• On the other hand, it was with Alaska.

We seriously loved the country and every moment we spent there (even when it was raining, which was basically every day, though usually just a light, misty rain). Susan works in a VA hospital, and she’s going to be investigating the feasibility of someday transferring to a VA facility in Alaska (probably Anchorage). I will myself, eventually, look into what Army Reserve units are based in Alaska, and consider the possibility of effecting a transfer of my own.

I say “eventually” because, the day after we got back from the cruise, my unit training NCO called to say there was a DLI slot available for me. In five weeks.

So, assuming I can pass the Army Physical Fitness Test (still working on pumping up my run times), I’ll be in Monterrey for about a year and a half. By the time I finish, my unit will be shaping for another deployment, and I will almost certainly choose to accompany them on that. Everything I wanted is coming to me on just about the schedule I wanted it; it’s going so well, I’ve begun to watch for something to go wrong.

So, Susan and I …

I originally proposed the cruise as an experience that I knew I would enjoy better with company, Susan’s company — because I caught the Alaskan dream from her, while we were married — being the most desirable. I had long ago accepted that she knew her own mind, and that reconciliation between us simply wasn’t going to happen, and it was on that basis that I made the offer and she agreed: a shared experience, but not intended to mean (or lead to) anything more.

By the time the cruise actually began, it had become something of a test case: how well would we get along, vacationing together for eight days? The state of things between us had improved to the point where it actually was an affectionate — and personal — relationship, and we both were interested in seeing how we dealt with each other in such focused circumstances.

Well, we didn’t fail. There were lots of good moments, and some that were stressful; though we’ve changed, we’re still basically the people we were before. There were times when Susan was impatient, short-tempered, feeling bad (she has certain health problems) and letting it affect her behavior; there were times when I was inconsiderate, preoccupied, a bit too insistent on getting my way. We dealt. We were trying to deal, approaching each other in a manner different from our previous pattern. Not all the times were good, but the experience as a whole was.

(And, yes, we passed ourselves off as husband and wife. It was simpler than explaining our personal situation several dozen times to the various people we met; plus, anyone knowing we were traveling together as an unmarried couple would assume sexual cohabitation, which is not something I will ever advocate. As I explained it to our son: if we told the truth, it would give an impression that wasn’t true; while, by misrepresenting ourselves in one matter, we conveyed an overall impression that was true, which was that we were not acting in open violation of basic standards of decency.)

No decisions were made. We care for each other, enjoy each other’s company, want to keep doing more of it. At the same time, neither of us is in a hurry to jump into a new marriage together, since part of the problem with our first marriage was that we entered it before reaching certain understandings. We like each other, and for now that’s good enough for us.

Plus, I’m about to go away for a year and a half. But I’ll be seeing her and our son whenever I get leave. I may even pay their way to California so we can spend time together in Monterrey. Our situation as it stands helps guard us against a precipitancy that might threaten us. Not the worst of all possible arrangements.

I got a call from my daughter yesterday; she was at the airport, about to begin her Far East tour. We spoke for about twenty minutes. I’m glad I heard from her before she left. She said that, once this tour was over, she intended to look at taking online college courses. She’s happy in what she’s doing, and wants to stay with it, but is not blocking off the rest of her life. Since that’s essentially what I’m doing with the Army, I can hardly object. I hope she has the time of her life. Even if it’s not a good time at all, she’ll always know she went to China. She’ll know that she had the nerve to jump out into something unknown.

My life is good. Things may change — usually do — but I’m happy right now.

Comments

[texanfan.livejournal.com]

I've been through Minnesota winters. Granted, I was a young child at the time but it was complete misery. My memories of snow are of black on the ground not picturesque white. Then again, I lived in an iron ore mining town.

Give me the sun any day.