Sunsets and Sacrifices

What is it that makes me, me? Have I always been this person that sits here, writing this out? Have I always been a traveler, explorer, a fighter? If you were to ask my mother, she would tell you, “Yes. Yes my daughter has always been a traveler, a drifter of sorts, a girl somewhat on the run. Yet at the same time, a fighter. A fighter for what she believes in, for what she wants, and more often than not, for others.” If you were to ask my best friend, who I’m more than often than not traveling with, she would say I am most definitely a traveler, but she would then probably tell you that I’m much more than that. She would probably tell you that I’m a life grabber, and only would you find me running after I’ve got a death grip on whatever extraordinary adventure I have under my arm.

I’ve been all over the world, yet I feel that I have yet to see what life really has to offer; that I’ve yet to taste the most exquisite food to cross my palate. How can I feel like I’ve done nothing, when most who know me think that I’ve done everything? Is it our human nature to want more? To think that what we have or what we’ve experience isn’t enough? I don’t really believe I feel this way. I know I’ve been blessed, if that’s the word for it. I know that I’ve done and seen things that so many can only dream about. And I’m grateful every day for my life. But I know there’s so much more I’m missing out on.

It baffles me when I tell people about my adventures and they respond with, “I can’t believe you did that?” Or, “How amazing! Oh, I could never do that.” Why not? That’s the first thing that comes to my mind. Then I actually respond with, “Sure you could. It’s easy. You just gotta go.” I guess I often forget how difficult it is to do the things I’ve done. The time, the money, the freewill. These things aren’t usually found at the local newsstand around the corner. But I also tend to forget about everything I’ve given up doing the things I’ve done.

The Army gives Soldiers thirty days of leave or vacation. Every year I’ve given myself two weeks to travel out into the world; South Korea, Thailand, Japan, Italy. The other two weeks I’ve dedicated to going home. So essentially I get to see the world AND see my family all in the same year. But anyone who thinks two weeks is enough time to go home, they can’t possibly think of it as home. This is a sacrifice I make every year, every month, every week. Every day. To this day I don’t know how I do it. How I can miss out on birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, BBQ’s, Packer and Brewer games. The births of my niece and nephew. The births of my best friends’ children. Weddings I’ve been invited to but can never RSVP to. These are the things I sacrifice by choosing to see the world when the Army cuts me loose. So with every sunset I watched over the Italian country side, I sat there thinking of what I could be missing back home.

Then there’s the money. Traveling isn’t cheap. I was smart when I first joined the Army and opened up a TSP. I have more than enough going into that each month. But I soon realized that if I wanted to travel the world like I do, I’d have to start a travel account. So this is how I make it work. I large sum of my monthly pay goes into this account and it sits there until my next Great Escape. But by doing this, I sacrifice yet again. I rent a duplex. I don’t own. I have an 11 year old pickup truck I have to make me last for years to come. And the last time I shopped at the mall, well, I can’t remember. These are the things I do so I can afford to see the ancient ruins of Japan.

And of course there’s freewill; that what is done of your own accord. Every human being has some form of freewill. It’s whether or not they know they have it and once they do know, are they willing to use it for themselves or for the ones around them. I have no children. I have no husband or even boyfriend for that matter. I have no one else, other than good ol’ Uncle Sam, to answer to. Freewill is mine and mine alone. I can come and go as I please (well unless I'm sitting in Iraq). To some, this may seem like gift; something to celebrate. And I do, please don’t get me wrong about that. To be able to just hit the road and not worry about being home at a certain time to make sure dinner is on the table or to make sure the kids have been picked up at school. It’s freedom. But it can be a lonely freedom.

I have a dream of an outdoor wedding in Crawford County, WI. Standing barefoot in a small patch of grass listening to the wind blow through the fall colored hills, the creek bubbling up as it winds its way towards Sleepy Hollow. I have a dream of children. At first it was three. Now I’d be happy with one. I have a dream of family and friends getting together on the weekends as kids chase dogs around yard. But these things I’ve come to sacrifice. Not forever. But for right now I have. All for the love of adventure, escapes, and sunsets. For the love of a country that I work hard to defend so many miles from home.

I just turned thirty-two last week and I’m just finally figuring out who I am. I am a woman of many travels, many adventures, many stories. But I’m also a woman of many sacrifices. Nothing crazy. Nothing really permanent. But I know it affects those that I love. Those that are not there with me watching the sun set over Florence. I know this. And as much fun as I’m having, there’s a large part of my heart that resides in Wisconsin, wishing I could be there, watching the sun set over Crawford County instead.

[For my parents and my little brother, to whom I miss everyday I’m not with them. I hope that with every adventure I’m on, you know that you are with me.]