I Love a Man in Uniform



My husband, Pete, 20+ years ago in the Marines (before we knew each other)

He once wrote a poem for me

about the wind and the waves

how the ocean breeze felt upon his face

breathing in the salty air

as water lapped upon his feet

in rhythmic solitude

a moonlit night, a starry sky

sitting on the wooden pier

two hearts as one;

nothing could compare, he wrote

and sent it with a card

the poem I keep beside our bed

my husband, my hero

still today.

~~

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: IGWRT's Fireblossom Friday

A bar brawl, fight with a chair and unexpected bonk of the heads: There's no hiding black eyes

A black eye; this unwanted baggage always seems to appear at the worse times. There's no hiding the blacks, blues, purples, reds, yellows and greens no matter how hard you try. The three incidents below really happened, but how they were "covered up" is interesting. Notice how the two male stories differ from mine.

*

Last week, Andrew was sitting in an old orange school chair in front of the kid's computer, leaning back and rocking as he anticipated his next gaming move. All of the sudden I heard a WHOOSH / THUMP and then Nicholas' concerned voice:

"Oh! Are you okay, Andrew?"

I quickly turned my head and found Andrew on the floor, hands covering his left eye. I was surprised he wasn't crying, because when I peeled away his fingers I could see the bruise already forming. The chair had flipped with him and the bottom of the leg had come back around and poked him in the eye (not directly, thank goodness, but close enough). We applied ice immediately, but the next morning it was apparent that we could have done nothing to stop nature's course of healing.

A few days later, right when the boldest colors of a black eye usually peak, Andrew had his award ceremony for earning his blue belt in TaeKwonDo (yeah, Drew!). I have to wonder if everyone thought he got his shiner while sparring. A few asked him, and this is what Andrew said:

"I got in a fight with my chair and won."

He did look like a true prize fighter.

*
Just two days before graduation from Non-Commissioned Officers (NCO) School in Paris Island, North Carolina, Pete was in a fight. The E-Club (Enlisted) was a well-frequented spot for the guys back then; kind of like an oasis in the middle of the desert. Of course, I'm sure Pete was only a victim and could never have stirred up trouble, so I will pass on the details. The important thing is that he had a big ole' shiner on the day of graduation; and he was graduating #1 in his class. When the commanding general of the base handed Pete his award, he whispered these words:

"What happened to your eye?"

"Oh, I just slipped in the shower," Pete mumbled.

"Does the other guy look that bad?" Asked the general with a wink.

Pete showed perfect proof that he was a tough marine as he walked across the stage with a serious expression on his colorful face.

*
Then there was the time I was stranded in Galveston while on a college weekend trip. I bumped heads with a friend on the seawall while waiting for my summer roommate Mitzie to show up (she had abandoned me at a night club, but that's another story). My mother came to visit me the next week. I tried to disguise my shiner with gobs of eye makeup, but there was no fooling good ole' Mom. I could tell she was onto me when she said this as soon as she saw me:

"My God, Laurie. You have on so much eye makeup. Since when did you start wearing all those different colored eye shadows?"

"Oh, you know Mitzie. She works at the Estee Lauder counter. She was practicing new methods on me."

"I see," Mom answered with a quizzical look.

I did not appear rough and tough; I looked like a little girl who put on too much eye shadow while playing dress-up. And I caked on the camouflage everyday until my eye returned to normal.

Did you notice that Andrew and Pete bragged about their black eyes, but I tried to cover mine up? To men, shiners are war stories. Women do whatever they can to hide their scarlet letters and keep them a secret. But we're really only fooling ourselves. The truth is visible in the oily blobs making rings around our eyes.

I am an ant

Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.
~Scott Cameron

It's funny how our world grows as we age. Think about it; a child's world is his own. Whatever is happening at that very moment is the child's understanding of life on Earth; he is the world. Then as we age, that area becomes more vast. We begin to see beyond the parameters of our existence. We realize we are but one little ant in the pile of life. With that realization comes a keen curiosity to learn more. What better way to learn about other countries than to travel and see for yourself? At least, that's how I feel.

So far, no cigar.

Pete, on the other hand, is a different story. He has travelled the world over and again. The time he spent in the Marines took him to faraway lands like Europe and Panama. Since then Pete's job has taken him to Japan, England and Greece... without me. I know, it's sickening isn't it? The main reason I have been unable to go is because I didn't have a passport. Pete's business trips come about very quickly. Until Greece, there was not enough time for me to apply.

Grease is the word Greece was the limit. I dropped Pete off at the airport and went straight to the post office for my passport application. I filled it out, had my picture taken and sent it off. Then I took the kids to get a puppy (Jake), but that's another story.

The ironic thing about this whole ordeal is that Pete has not had another opportunity to travel overseas since I got my passport four years ago, ~sigh~ but I'm ready. And times a'tickin'. My arms are open wide. I am a measly ant ready to venture out from her familiar pile. I am ready to see the world.

A much younger Pete at Japan's Shinto Shrine, pond with lotus flowers- July '98

Bedtime Conversations

"Give me a piss."

I had just heard Pete tell this to Nicholas after we said our family nightly prayers last night, as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Did you just say piss?" I whispered to Pete as he walked by with a smile (thankfully it went over our youngest's head).

"Yes- thanks to the conversation we just had," my Marine answered.

Drew had just asked Pete the question, "Where do soldiers go to the bathroom during war?"

To which Pete had responded, "Well, son, if you are fighting for your life with the enemy surrounding you, going to the bathroom is the last thing on your mind; but if you can't hold it, sometimes you just have to pee in your pants."

Thank you all you soldiers out there, former and current, for fighting for our freedom to... (fill in the blank in comments, please).

My Hero, My Husband

Since I am making the time from now until July 4th a somewhat patriotic tribute to the wonderful USA, I wanted to share with you a poem I wrote in one of my poetry groups about heroes. This is dedicated to my true hero- the one and only hero in my life- my sweet husband Pete. I love him so much and am so proud of who he is, what he stands for and what he has sacrificed for our country. He is the best husband and father anyone could ever hope to have, so here's to you Pete:

My Husband, My Hero

by Laurie Kolp

My hero is my husband
Let me tell you why-
He spent time in the Marines,
And is such a super guy.

Pete has been known
To give a stranger his coat,
Someone under a bridge
Whose life was in a tote.

My great hero Pete,
Panama did he invade
To overtake Noriega
And imprison this renegade.

My husband is the kindest man
That you could ever meet,
And through all his experience
He has become wise and complete.

Poor thing lost his mother at fourteen
From a long bout with Leukemia,
So he had to help his father
Raise the kids and ensure their academia.

Years later Pete's father became ill
And died from pancreatic cancer.
While Pete was in his twenties
He began searching for some answers.

The military helped give Pete guidance
And with benefits, he finished college.
Soon he felt the time was right to settle down,
He married me and now he shares his knowledge.

Together we have three beautiful children

To which Pete is the greatest father.

He spends all his extra time with us,

For anything else to do, there is no other.

I love you, Pete- you are my hero.

A fact I hope you never forget.

My life with you is blessed, indeed

And choosing you, I have no regret.