The Things We Carry

I carry a past, not the people in the memories but the memories nonetheless. Secrets, some whispered and some screamed and most of them are not mine.

I carry my child. In every way possible I carry her and there are times when my arms and my heart burn from it. I get to carry all my love and hope and dreams for her, the burp cloths and the diaper bag.
And because of her I carry a future better then I ever could've imagined.

I carry an endless supply of cleaning supplies, including but not limited to: brooms, vacuums, Swiffers (wet and dry) polish, window cleaner, a whole arsenal of lysol products, Mr Clean Magic Erasers, Febreeze, and lets not forget the ever-present carpet cleaner. I wield these things daily.

I also get the joy of carrying pencils and paper, keyboard and printer. Grocery lists, bills, receipts, and budgets. All with the hope that someday there will be more of some and less of others.

I carry parts and pieces of my family. I can feel their pain and their joy, patience, and frustrations. Sometimes I can feel them reaching out across the miles to try to hold my hand. For them and for me, I carry them.

I carry my tattoos. I'm trying to make the world a more colorful place, one inch of skin at a time. With them, I remember who I was, what I believe in, what I needed, what I wanted, who I wanted to be at different places in my life. I carry them so at times when I can't remember my strength, I can look down and remember that's it somewhere inside of me.

I carry fear. And sometimes that fears sneaks up on me, reminds me that I am human and that there are alligators everywhere. I am a woman, a mother, a wife, a military spouse, and I know fear. But more, I know courage.

I carry a razor that I use, maybe once a week..if I remember. A makeup bag full of goodies that sadly is most of the time ignored. A whole lot of unbelievably pretty shoes that I haven't worn in over a year. I carry a disdain for hair curlers, a love for tweezers, and complete adoration for my hair straightener. 

I carry all I feel for my husband. The understanding that I love someone completely unlike me and that I still have no knowledge of how it works out as well as it does. I carry the apologies that I sometimes forget to say and the guilt that ensues when I have said something wrong. I carry the hope for our future and our child's future. I get to carry my support for him. I carry his fears and doubts that bind with mine just as our future is bound. I get to share the weight of deployment, redeployment, transition, and the fear for our friends and family going through the same things.

I carry my dreams.  Our dreams. Not that the world will be a better place really, but that we'll be able to make our place in the world; a place where we can feel safe, content, and where we can keep dreaming. Where we can teach our babies what it's like to have dreams, how to make some come true, how to let go of others and how to decide, how to work those dreams.