I never thought I’d experience the highest highs and lowest lows of life on a miniscule tropical island in the middle of the Pacific. The choice was mine, and it was the life changing decision to get married and move away from small town USA, Alabama, to be exact, that sent me on this journey. I did not make the decision lightly; although, I was only 22 at the time, and hope and faith in the ideals of love, marriage, family, and a fairy tale life probably influenced my decision more than actual life experience or maturity. I say this because you never know where life will take you, no matter how many plans you have or how dedicated you are to being in control of your life; in the end, life and God, or whatever higher power you believe in, reveals to you that life is never really in your control, and plans are good, but pliable, and you must be pliable too, in order to roll and change with them. I had plans when I moved to this tiny dot of coral between Hawaii and Guam called the Marshall Islands. The naivety of first love and security was the reason I came, but not what would sustain me in the long run, and I was smart enough not to view the world totally through rose-colored glasses all the time because my own parent’s marriage had dissolved after 23 years and 3 children, and my mom was left without a college degree or a solid way to support herself, so I planned to finish college (I was only halfway through when I moved to the island), and I planned to be married at least 4 years before having any children, and I planned to work and figure out what I wanted to do for a career, and I did all of these things over the last 13 years, but there were many other things that happened along the way that were not planned including the worst kind of betrayal, divorce, and surprisingly enough new love, life, and joy in the oddest of places, but I do not regret the initial naïve choices that brought me here, I only wonder about them from time to time. It’s the “What if” game we all play when things don’t go the way we planned. And now, I’m in the middle of taking a leap of faith and leaving the tropical paradise I have almost grown up on because, well, it’s time. But before I go, I wanted to record the experiences of what will most likely be my last year here, to reflect on all that’s happened and on this place I’ve called home for so long, and finally, to let go of the past, so I can move forward in peace.
Writing has always been a form of therapy for me, and I have felt a pull the last year to start again, to allow it to cleanse me of the lemons life has thrown at me during my time here. So, this is where it begins and ends, on a three mile long island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, home to the Republic of the Marshall Islands, and to the United States Army Kwajalein Atoll military defense base. You may find the story boring and not read a word further, and that’s fine. That’s for you to decide, but I still need to write it and share it with any who care to read it. You may fall in love with the islands I write about as so many before have done. You may want to come live here like almost everyone we meet on our travels does when we tell them where we live. It’s a tropical paradise in looks and description, but it’s also small town America overseas, and it’s an example of how the American footprint alters life drastically for locals wherever we go. It’s the prime example of the difference between visiting somewhere and actually living there, which is never quite the same with the good and the bad all wrapped up together.You can’t hide from life or its sorrows. And joy is found in the strangest moments. So, this is my daily story of a year living on an Atoll.
No comments:
Post a Comment