Stream of Conscience

My favorite officer at work retired Tuesday.  This guy was amazing; technically smart, a leader who took care of his people, someone who spoke up against the red-tape stupidity inherent in any organization.  And he was a great friend.

When I left for work that morning, I was yakking to the cats.  As I stepped out the door, I told them we were losing one of the best that day, and proceeded on my way.  What I didn’t realize was how much it was going to affect me.  I began tearing up in the morning and knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it together at his ceremony.

Fortunately he was here yesterday.  (He’s dedicated like that.)  I apologized for missing his retirement and he said he’d noticed I wasn’t there.  But as I told him why, I began crying again.  He was flattered, although he kind of apologized for it since he saw how sad I was.

I’m not sure why it affected me so much.  I’ve said good-bye to good people before, and my reaction hasn’t been this strong.  I’m not going to try to analyze it now.  I’d just end up crying.  I’ll save that for my counseling session this evening.

I made a list of heroes to discuss throughout the month as part of NaBloPoMo, but I don’t feel I’m ready to write about them yet.  Apparently I think posts about them need a lot of time and thought to do them justice.  I mean, they are my heroes, after all.  If I don’t write glowing words about them,  how will people know how special they are?  But that begs the question, is it necessary to  convince other people they’re wonderful?  Isn’t it enough to know they’ve made an impact on my life and for that I cherish them?  (Well, the real people at least.  The fictional characters, I don’t “cherish” so much, but they do make my life more enjoyable.)

So, let me babble a bit.  Take a look at the NaBloPoMo icon.  Do you know who it is?  If you do, you’re either 1) a baby boomer or older, or 2) a fan of retro-tv.  For me, McHale’s Navy was part of my formative years.  It was one of the television shows my family watched religiously.  My dad had been a Navy officer during World War II, and while he’d long been out of the military by the time I was born,  his service is one of my earliest memories of him.  And I remember him laughing hysterically at the show.

At that time (and for many years afterwards), I never thought I’d follow in his footsteps.  I don’t think his service was a big factor in my choosing the Navy over the other services.  In fact, when I’d thought about joining the military, he’d actually recommended the Air Force.  He thought it was a more modern service.  But all I could remember of the Air Force was my brother having been stationed at Forbes Air Force Base in Topeka, Kansas.  That wasn’t for me.  I’d much rather have been stationed near the water.  The other deciding factor was that, as an audiologist, I’d have gone into the Air Forces’s equivalent of the Medical Service Corps.  At least the Navy gave me the option of going MSC or as a Line Officer.  I chose the more difficult one.  And I’ve never regretted it.