Origins

When you find yourself, as you inevitably will at some point during the deployment, really frustrated by the whole experience (your beloved being cleaved from your bosom and all that jazz) and wondering what the hell you’re doing letting the US government boss you around again, take a few moments to remember the story of your origin. I’m not talking about Adam and Eve, or the Giant Turtle with the world on his back, or the Serpent wrapped seven times around the water pitcher type of origin story, I mean YOUR story. Your story of how you and the aforementioned beloved got together. Sometimes, when the middle of the relationship gets iffy due to military orders and lengthy, bothersome separations, remembering how and why the hell you picked this dude or chick in the first place can really put everything in perspective for you.

Now our story got started a lot earlier than you might think. To track our story, we have to go all the way back to me meeting Husband Number 2. Yeah, I know, they all have names, but I keep it simple when I’m sharing stories in the classroom and just number them. It’s easier for everybody involved. And, in honor of my current husband, I do call him exactly that, Current Husband, as opposed to numbering him. To be fair, this particular smart-ass refers to me as his First Wife. :-) Anyway, the universe did have to collude to get me together with my Current Husband (otherwise known as the Right One…Finally), so I’ll start at the beginning. I promise not to bore you too much.

I met Husband Number 2 while stationed in California and our first date was on the beach. I had to study but he was interested in body surfing for a while which was fine. He would wave periodically as I slogged my way through spacecraft diagrams, and it certainly seemed like he was having a lot more fun than I was. However, he told me the real story when he made it back to the beach a few hours later. He’d been catching some decent waves for a while, but at some point he got caught in a riptide and was being towed down the beach and out to sea. I didn’t know what was happening and kept reading my satellite texts, not that I could have saved him anyway…the ocean has proven on many occasions that she hates me and has tried to drown me at least four times. Thank you, Current Husband, for fishing me out every time. I know, I know, it takes a village to raise this idiot! :->

Okay, meanwhile, back in the water with Husband Number 2. He told me later that he didn’t want to alert me and have me get caught in the same riptide but was kind of bummed that he met the woman he wanted to marry, just to drown in front of her. While this was going on, he said he thought about his parents. Sadly, he had already lost them both by the age of 26, and he thought he’d spend his last few minutes just kind of talking with them. He said that as he talked with them, a feeling of peace came over him and he figured he could handle drowning. At that moment, he felt a presence, a pair of eyes on him. He looked around, expecting, perhaps, to see the spirits of his parents, and was shocked to see a pair of bright, black eyes staring at him from just above the ocean. A seal had come to check him out, to see what all the fuss was about. Right after that, Number 2 felt a bump against his legs; the seal had nudged him. He thought, “Well, crap, this cute little guy wants to play and all I can do is drown, instead. This sucks! I’d love to play, little buddy, but I’m doing all I can to keep my head above water right about now.” Soon after that, the seal came up under his legs and pushed him all the way to the shore until he could gain purchase with his feet. He staggered up to me, flopped on the beach blanket, and pointed out his savior to me. The seal was still bobbing in the water very close to the shore.

The next weekend, we went out to try some ocean kayaking in the same area with a guide. As we started paddling through the water, a seal popped up right beside us. The guide was stunned and said that seals didn’t usually get that close to humans, and weren’t normally around this particular beach. We jokingly referred to it as my then-husband’s seal. He showed up every time we went to that beach. He was beautiful, with huge bright eyes, long eye lashes, and, I swear, a great smile on his face. He seemed to count himself as Number 2’s guardian and hung out until we both moved away from California.

As the marriage went on, we would periodically refer back to the seal and how much he had meant to us. The marriage itself became more difficult as time went on, and I can remember on my darkest days that I would silently ask the universe for my own seal. I hated that I was jealous of his seal, but I desperately wanted one, too. I knew I needed this figurative guardian to keep me from drowning, as well. The marriage wound to a close and we divorced. When I was ready, the universe got involved again. And, the universe knows, just like my parents do, that I can be both stubborn and obtuse, so if help was to be offered, it had to come in a crystal clear form. Amazing how smart the universe is, people!

A year later, I had started a new job in a new office as a reservist and was really enjoying it. One Monday morning at shift change, I looked across the room into the biggest, brightest eyes I’d ever seen, with lashes I’m still jealous of. “Ah, there you are,” I remember thinking immediately. And, as I looked at the name tapes on his BDUs, I somehow wasn’t surprised to read the name SEAL. I had to laugh. The universe definitely didn’t want me to screw this up again. I had finally found my Seal. The universe conspired to give me the guardian I had asked for. And, for once, I didn’t ignore the signs, and I did ask him to marry me. (Again, scariest thing ever, people! EVER!)

I told this story to one of my English classes on the last day of class, and after I released everyone for the summer, one of my students approached me. She is one of my favorite people now, but she frustrated me initially because she was so much like I was when I was that age. I know it made her cranky when I first told her that too, but I think she came to understand that stubborn knows stubborn and we pushed each other the entire year. She made me a better teacher, and I like to think I made her a better writer. She waited until the rest of the class had left, gave me a hug and said, “You know you’ve become your own Seal now. You don’t need a guardian. You’ve become who you always wanted to. Be proud of that.” Well, holy crap!! She’s wise, that one!

Hence the tattoo.

And, his name. Ta’ Me’. It means “I am” in Gaelic.

So, Baby, even though we’re apart for a while longer, every time I look at my tattoo, I think of how we met. And, I think of how you helped me become who I was always meant to be.

And, to everyone else, think about how and why you became a couple or a family. I know you all have cool and interesting “Origin” stories to share with the universe.

Peace!