Occasionally when I look around at Dh’s comrades when they are out together, I realize that for some of them, apart from the military they have nothing in common. It’s really true, for many of them there is an age difference, sometimes of 10 or more years. Differences in family situations, some married with kids, some divorced without, everything in between. They have diverse interests, everything from Warhammer and MMORPGs to hunting and camping for days without electronics. Different faiths, different choices, different opinions. Their personalities can occasionally clash pretty loudly. I mean, there’s even Toronto Maple Leaf fans mixed in with Bruins fans and no one understands the Roughrider fans. The truth is, for many of those relationships the only common factor is their time served together. That bond is even stronger when you throw in some time in a tent in Kabul, or a FOB in Kandahar. Or both. One of the most amazing things to me about the military is that those experiences together can be all that’s needed. Especially among combat troops, they overshadow the differences and cement relationships stronger than any other simply by the fact that they’ve experienced a time when they counted on each other for survival. Now that I think of it, that’s not simple at all. But it’s amazing to watch from the outside. It’s also, I think, why in the military community it’s more common to hear the word brother than friend. Brother implies family. You don’t choose your family, they are chosen for you. You might not even like you family, but you don’t always have to. You are still there for family, anytime they call…
So I have these friends… And lately, things kinda really a whole lot suck for them. I wish they were closer. I could bring over chocolate and coffee and just BE their friend. But a while back they followed God’s call somewhere else. It makes the suck that much…. suckier. (I should really invest in a thesaurus.) I was thinking about these friends while I was running this past week. Lately, I’ve been getting up really, really early to run. I have no idea why the time change had the opposite effect on me than it should have, but I get up earlier than I ever did before. Last Friday, I was up before the clock hit 5. That’s right, my alarm was set to a time that started with a 4. How sick is that? But I need to get out and back before my hubby leaves for work. And apparently I decided to start that habit the week DH had to be at work a little earlier than usual. So to be home for him to leave at 6, I needed to be out the door before 5. It’s a different little town I live in before 5 a.m. Dead silent. Dark. But not the 8p.m. dark when it still feels like the light is lingering even though it’s long gone. 5am dark is even darker. It’s the dark with the anticipation of the sunrise that’s still a couple hours away. I wanted to share with my friends what I have learned on these early morning runs. And just for fun, lets share that with you, too. My big epiphany…
