Love Makes The World Go Round

I am honored to be amongst such a kind, happy, goofy, loving, funny, giving and peaceful culture. The Okinawans are polite. They are quiet, calm. They are extremely generous. But most of all they are peaceful.

Everywhere I go, I see them making a peace sign with their hands. For pictures, just saying hello to one another or to those who they know don't speak their language....a peace sign. It is universal and says so much.

I was unsure how they felt about our massive presence on this island and around the world, as a military wife. They seem to love us and just want to spread their love and peace.

I love Okinawa.

We met a Japanese/Okinawan family at a festival one lovely evening recently. Our children smiled at one another and the father of the family of 6 keeled down, let our children communicate in their toddler way and he proceeded to speak with us, as best he could in broken English for about 30 minutes. We were complete strangers! We were foreigners at one of their festivals. And they welcomed us into their conversation, lives and later, their homes. I have never met a nicer man and family.

The husband's exchanged phone numbers that night. He expressed to us he wanted to learn fluent English. We expressed the same about wanting to learn Japanese. About 3 or 4 days after the festival, we received a call from the Okinawan father/husband/super nice guy and he invited us to his house for a "house party." We knew that he probably did not mean house party as in, kegger-frat boys-hundreds of people packed into a house-party like we referred to it. And it was most certainly not that.

About 2 weeks after meeting our first Japanese friends, we found ourselves driving to their home, removing our shoes at their front door and walking in on the already fully prepared, most beautiful spread of foods in front of us.

Their dining table sat about two feet off of the floor. The plate wear was all in earthy tones. A set of chop sticks and a soy sauce dish were placed lovingly by each setting. We enjoyed eggplant seaweed rolls, raw soba noodle rolls, mashed pumpkin salad, white and black rice cakes with jasmine and seaweed, seafood salad with sea grapes on top and a soy-vinegar dressing, a seafood omelet with mayonnaise and tea, Okinawan beer and Okinawan Sake. It was quite the spread. I wish I could go back and eat it all over again and again.

The wife cooked the hot food on a hot grill right at the table. It is customary to do this with guests in Japan so as to not miss one moment of visiting with them, no trips to the kitchen for serving the food. They gave my daughter plastic silver wear and fully expected her to eat what their children ate, which was what the adults ate, at that very table. To my embarrassment, she opted not to eat any of it. So they lovingly gave her lolly pops and popsicles, lucky baby.

Our children played, we tried to speak to one another as best we could. They had a few other friends and family stop by and we continually got a thank you from the man of the house. He kept saying how happy he was that we came to join them and were learning to communicate together with him.

I have never felt such love from a stranger in a strange land. We plan to have them over to our home for dinner as well and I continue to admire and feel grateful to be around the way of the Okinawans.

my great gift, the friends in my life

I am only ever

gratitude

Memories are thick

Who I have come across

and held

onto

walked and danced with

are greatness

in motion

Fleeting

Fleeing

Ever changing

But still I hold

onto

gently as an ancient, antique,

fragile tea cup

My love swarms and surrounds

as a storm

that rattles

those who were next to me

I find

through a squint

light within me

as I look down

as I look back

all

because of

you.

My Daughter, The Artist

We had a wonderful experience today. I began to experiment with the mural of birds, branches, leaves and trees that I am going to paint on my daughter's new bedroom walls. I just wanted to do a test birdie. Mirabelle was crying and moaning at my feet to do one of her own. Being just two years and one month old, I had never thought to give her the chance to experiment with painting. Let alone permanent acrylics. But, I thought of something else. I let her begin to handle a small brush, with a pinch of paint and with the colors I chose for her mural. I asked her to keep it on a white board and she listened very well. I saw that she was beginning to create. It was beautiful.

Mirabelle decided to experiment with the way she held the brush and the amount of pressure while applying the paint. I continued filling her brush with paint, when needed, at her request. And then the magic began to develop. She started deciding when she wanted which colors. She would ask for brown, purple, green, all at different times. Instead of guiding her and showing her what to do, how to paint, I let her guide me. I filled her brush when she asked me to. And like she swirls around a room to music in her fairy princess tutu, she also let her paint brush dance across her canvas board.

We then decided the place to hang her work. I held the piece in different locations in her room. I would say, "here?" She would reply, "no." Then we finally got an "Okay!" She was proud of her work and I was also. She contributed to her room's atmosphere of beauty and decor. She will be sleeping right below her first masterpiece, every night.

The magic lay in the experience of seeing something happen for the very first time. Naturally. With ease and wonder. She gave no effort. The art and feeling of creating, choosing and manipulating color, just came to her. It reminded me of what Edouard Manet, Paul Cezanne or Jackson Pollock must have been thinking or feeling when they were moving toward creating something totally different and new with color, for the very first time, just from their subconscious mind's movement.

And the work presented in her room.

In Honor and Memory of Captain Matthew Freeman

I was reminded today that it has been just over a month since Captain Matthew Freeman was shot and killed in Afghanistan, a soldier who was dear to our heart. I barely got through his funeral. My husband and I were extremely taken aback by the outpouring of love by the local businesses when we drove into Richmond Hill, GA for his funeral.

I am still crying. I wanted to evaluate, why am I crying?

I am crying for his wife, Theresa.

I am crying because the war is far from over and it seems to be getting worse, with more fatalities daily.

I am crying because the Taliban must own such a horrific, long, history of pain that they feel they absolutely have to inflict this much pain on everyone else.

I am crying because I am a new Army officer's wife and I bravely admit for me, it is a scary thing to be.

I am crying because the guys my husband surrounds himself with and calls friends are the most beautiful people and I cannot imagine having as good and honorable of a collection of friends as he has collected in his life thus far...like Matt, Bryan, Bree to name a few.

I am crying because I was supposed to see Matt Freeman and Theresa Hess Freeman, as a couple, someday at our new duty station and now, I will not.

I am crying because I cannot imagine what she is doing to get herself up each day and be strong and live life without her husband ever coming back.

I am crying because these military jobs are extremely honorable and necessary in this day and age and I wish they were not.

I am crying because I do not think I could do what Matt did, or be what he was.

I am crying out of joy because the light of God showed on his face and in all his pictures.

I am crying just thinking of how beautiful the funeral was, as was the rain that followed it.

I am crying for his Mother. Because I am a Mother now and feel the pain when my daughter stubs her toe. I cannot fathom crying for the pain of my deceased child.

I am crying for every single military family and friends of the families throughout all of history who have had to deal with this torturous pain.

I am crying for humanity. Crying out. Please let us find our way to exist amongst one anothers' differences.

I only met Matthew and Theresa one time and it was brief. They were coming from or going to a funeral. They both looked stunning. I was impressed by them. They looked ravishing physically and spiritually. I looked up to them because of what great things my husband had to say about each of them. Chad knew them both since high school and spoke very highly of both Matt and Theresa. But more, Theresa was instrumental in helping a needy Army wife feel more comfortable while moving to a foreign country. I e-mailed her, probably too often, with my list of questions regarding Okinawa and Japan and the military life there, our shared home. She spent a good bit of her time typing me long messages, answering all my questions, making me feel MUCH, much more prepared than the military had made me feel. This gift she gave me was invaluable. She helped me deal with a very stressful move with much more ease. I can only think that both her and her husband were just the most giving, wonderful people and the world is not quite as well off without one of them in it. I hope to meet Theresa again someday in Japan and thank her for her help and thank her for her husband and all he did.

I plan to continue to mourn Matt's memory in a way I think he would appreciate. He was such a good man and he supported wonderful charities and good causes that I keep reading about. A facebook group for Matt that I joined, started by a woman named Dana Bowers, regularly reminds me of all the things that Matt stood for. So in celebrating his legacy I decided to continue to put my energy in advertising his foundations and good causes; I plan to post this blog! I plan to post notices around our military home complex for his foundation. I plan to celebrate his life. AS the Washington post put it, the deaths of Micheal Jackson, an entertainer and Ted Kennedy, a politician were overshadowing the deaths of our brave leaders and soldiers over seas that same week.

He was a soldier. He was a high school friend of my husband. He is missed all around the world.
This is a direct quote from her facebook group, please see the foundation details. Also the pictures I used for this blog are from the group, In Memory of Matt Freeman:

“Dana Bowers
Finally, if you are able to financially (in any amount) please consider the Matt Freeman Scholarship fund.

You may send a check payable to:
'Captain Matthew Freeman Memorial Scholarship' c/o Bryan Bank PO Box 1299Richmond Hill, GA 31324Thank you again for joining this group! Please continue to keep the Freeman and Hess families in your prayers along with SPC Lowe and all the men and women who continue to serve our country.”

........Hello All,I hope this finds you well. Yesterday marked one month since our friend, Marine Capt. Matthew Freeman was killed in action in Afghanistan. Unfortunately he was just one of the 52 U.S. troops killed in Afghanistan in August 2009, which was the deadliest month to date. September 2009 is looking to surpass that number with 13 casualties as of September 8. Matt's friends and family made a great showing of support for him at his services, and I hope you will continue to give that support for our remaining service members still overseas. (If you are interested in getting news from the front lines, please check Rex Temple's site at: http://www.afghanistanmylasttour.com/) I also wanted to take this time to send out a new site I was alerted to, as well as remind you of some of our adopted causes. A new site for adopting a service member is called Herobox at:
http://www.herobox.org/
This site is similar to the one Matt was involved in at:
http://www.anysoldier.com/
If you have the means to send a care package, or even a card or letter, through either site, please do! It will be greatly appreciated (and more rewarding than sending out your monthly bills!) Also, our group "mascot" if you will, SPC Christoper 'Kit' Lowe is still recovering at Walter Reed, so please send him a funny card to speed his recovery and get him back to Savannah sooner! (Laughter is the best medicine).

Spc Christopher Lowe
Abrams Hall, Box #10196900
Georgia Ave NW”

"Let us solemnly remember the sacrifices of all those who fought so valiantly, on the seas, in the air, and on foreign shores, to preserve our heritage of freedom, and let us reconsecrate ourselves to the task of promoting an enduring peace so that their efforts shall not have been in vain."
~Dwight D Eisenhower


I believe we all die at the exact, appropriate time, when our duties here are done. May God watch over his soul.
Rest in peace, Matt,
With love,
Rebecca Sweeney Krokoski

Expect The Unexpected

The Life of a Military Wife, New to Okinawa, Japan

When our airplane first touched earth in mainland Japan, we had been traveling and flying for over 30 hours. That is, flying on a military flight with a 2 year old and many stops containing unexpected delays. We first landed on a military base south of Tokyo to refuel, drop off and pick up more military families. I said FAMILIES. Not soldiers or people in uniform just flying for work. No. FAMILIES, most likely relocating with screaming infants and toddlers, pissed off military wives and even more pissed off single soldiers from all ranks. The wives' stern, empty and slightly pale faces seemed to say, “I didn't ask for this assignment so I do not care that my child has been screaming for 13 hours of your time.” And the childless military people's faces read, “WHY on earth can't they create flights for families-with-children SEPARATE from the flights for us.” And shockingly, I sat there, almost the entire duration in peace, with a totally peaceful child and an almost peaceful husband.

Mirabelle was an angel. I think she was so quiet because it was a completely new experience to be without the comforts and familiarity of her own home for an extended period of time. She was just...being, observing. That and pure exhaustion from this LONG, bender of a travel “day.” She slept quite a bit on the flight because her poor little 24 month old body simply just had to shut down wherever she found herself, in any position. I loved every minute of it.

My husband on the other end of the spectrum, is completely mortified to fly. Major phobia here. He never reads my blog so he will never get mad at me for sharing this. And the reality was, the military placed him on an assignment that made us to fly the entire way across the US and the entire way across the pacific....in two consecutive flights. HAHAHAHA. He was a dream though, no complaining because his fear made him silent. Any turbulence made him shutter like a scared, little, 7 year old, girl who was flying for the first time. Knuckles white on the arm rests. But other than that, he did great. Hey, we all have our fears, mine is needles, dentists, doctors and shots....seriously to a sweaty and irrational level. But I still love to laugh at him. Ha ha, big tough Army guy. He pulled through just fine. I love him for his strengths and more for his weaknesses and that was an epiphany for me, so every experience has it's good and proper place.

So me enjoying my husband's silent nervousness, my daughter's exhaustion and the pain of the other military wives made me feel blissful and peaceful in the most fulfilling way! I was sitting there, being quiet (after too much talking through too many family visits before leaving the country), being peaceful and reflecting on what my new life was about to mean. I loved that long flight, to my surprise.

At that first touch down once in Japan, we (all 300 of us) were herded off the plane into a waiting or large lobby area of the first military airport. What were we waiting for? No one told us. How long would we be here? What are we doing? What is the meaning of life? I am delirious here people, I need some explanations! But it is the military, “hurry up and wait, while clueless” is the motto I have learned from day 1. Even though the lack of good sleep weakened our bodies and minds, my family came off the plane with huge smiles, so excited to be in Japan for the first time. Our new country. I then went from frozen, dead feeling legs while walking into the waiting facility to cracking up laughing. As we entered the waiting area Judge Judy was on a wide screen TV surrounded by soda and snack machines filled with Gatorade and Doritos. It just surprised me. But then I realized ok, we ARE on an American air base after all. I just can't believe how much US, junk, stuff we Americans fly in to far away countries to comfort ourselves with normalcy, no matter how unhealthy. It made me tumble over with laughter thinking how far we had journeyed and got off that plane and nothing really had changed......yet.

Once we finally got to our destination ….8 years later..... we slept. We ate. We slept at the very comfortable Air Force Inn accommodating 2 bedroom hotel room. We ate.......Philly cheese steak sandwiches and Taco Bell. Ugh. That was all that was offered in walking distance from our lodging. My one and only major complaint about the military is the lack of attention paid to healthy foods and drink. But anyhoo. We were (somewhat) nourished, rested and being taken very good care of by Chad's sponsor. His sponsor picked us up from the airport, helped us find cell phones and cars and took us to our two housing possibilities. Nice guy with a very nice wife.

This is, however, where my nightmare and struggles began in Okinawa. I got a sinus infections right out of the gate when we arrived, lots of pain. But that was nothing to my struggle with trying to keep calm during the housing situation. My house and home is my haven. My house is my sanctuary. My house is my party place. My house is my daughter's comfort zone and stability. My house is my open door to visitors, where I love to cook. My house is my Yoga place, Reiki place and resting place. So obviously it is my everything. I had liked the choice the military made for me on location. Awesome tropical island, sweet. Thank you Uncle Sam. Housing choice......I was not so sure. I had seen housing buildings around the bases we had been near the first week and I was, in a word, underwhelmed. The housing had been built in the 1950's and was built to be secure for class 90 Typhoons coming and ripping through the area. They were once story, off white cement and looked like Trenchtown, Jamaican ghettos. I was scared of what we would be presented with.

The day to look at housing arrived. I was sad to leave my cushy, regular room/maid service hotel. So in my way, I breathed....deeply. I was sweating as we got in our sponsor's car. I felt my face looking pissed, tense. My intuition was trying to squash my mind saying, “I know I am going to hate these houses, lets just get this over with.” We did not have the regular option to live off base in a home of our choosing, for temporary budget reasons. And I despise moving, so I knew wherever we live we would be stuck with for the next three, long, years. So we pulled up to our first choice's parking lot. I was shaking, angry, cold sweat and trying to just let go and believe that I could make my new home amazing even if it felt like I was living in a dirt hut. I desperately tried, in my jet lagged mind to let go and be thankful for whatever it was we would have to put up with. I have an awesome child and husband and my health. Life will not be so bad. We walked into a large, tower apartment/condo style building. I hate towers, I thought. Hmpf. But as we entered the unit....my first thought was oh! This is very clean! This is big! This place has tons of storage! This place has great windows! This place has big bedrooms! Wow, two balconies!? The kitchen is nice! The bathrooms are big, with lovely tile! Oooh, is that a bar area??! SO. Either my breathing and conscious reminder to stay positive and thankful, worked ...OR we just really lucked out with this place. Our next option........yea, looked like a Trenchtown, Jamaican ghetto and Chad and I both hated it. But we had that first choice and we jumped on it! And I love it here. I cannot bring my doggy into the country or to this building, sadly. But the residence is VERY nice, has a huge playground for Mirabelle, has an extensive recycling center on the ground level and every tenant I have met so far has been incredibly kind to me. We live on a Marine base about 5 minutes from Chad's work and I foresee us loving it here.

I have embraced this experience with wide open arms. I am loving my new home. I am comfortable now trying to make a perfectly decorated and tidy home while also being patient about this materializing in due time. I am being patient in situations like, if my kitchen is spotless but with a messy pantry. The same is true for my life. I am formulating a balance between total comfort and relaxation while also finding something to do here that really challenges me regularly.

I plan to take Japanese language lessons, which will be a long class! I plan to find a personal trainer, which will no doubt create a ton of good pain and effort. I plan to rest when my child naps. I plan to write and paint as much as possible. I plan to beach often. I appreciate the solitude of living in a new country, it gives me time to focus more on ME. Though I have surprisingly spoken to my friends and family more now than I did when I lived in the same region as everyone!!! It is all balanced and nice.

The island of Okinawa as I have witnessed so far, is not the calm, quiet, healthy place I expected. It is loud, fast, has a lot of bars, busy traffic and is very crowded. Things are never what you expect. So I totally embrace it all. I will seek out my quiet towns as I explore more of this large island. I will find my cherry blossom Buddhist meditation gardens. I do not doubt that. I will embrace what America has brought here and celebrate my patriotism while trying to unite humanity from regions of opposite ends of the earth. But as I learn about this new culture and location I will continue being flexible and peaceful and I fully intend to grow, still deep breathing and become something....unexpected.

We Made It!

No Internet Service Yet,

But We Made It!!!

Stay Tuned......many pictures and posts to come!!!

I love Okinawa!!!!!!

My Magic 8 Ball.....Japan!

And we're off!......almost.....

Moving to Japan this week!

For real!

Much anticipation!

Very excited!

Long time coming! Long time spent waiting for this day!

I see things in pictures like this, in the rice fields of Japan;

This is art created by carefully placed rice plants:

"Stunning crop art has sprung up across rice fields in Japan . But this is no alien creation - the designs have been cleverly planted. Farmers creating the huge displays use no ink or dye. Instead, different colours of rice plants have been precisely and strategically arranged and grown in the paddy fields. As summer progresses and the plants shoot up, the detailed artwork begins to emerge." ~RICHARD STEVENS What will this strange and wonderful place hold for me? For my family? Who will I love to meet? Where will I spend most of my time? What will our home look like? Feel like? How will I deal with being home sick? How will my daughter adapt and grow? Will I have more children there? Is there a local market where I can buy fresh produce that tastes unlike American produce? How much culture can I soak up in 2+ years? Will I never want to leave? Will I find eternal peace and nirvana? Will I have allergies? Will I travel to see the great Buddhist statues? Do they tolerate Americans, hate or love us? Will my husband like it? Will I teach Yoga there? Do Japanese people like Yoga? Who cares! I intend to find all this out. But I really see it as moving to any other place. If we were stationed in Oklahoma I would make the best of it and spread my love for humanity across the states. Here I will spread my love for humanity across the hemispheres. Study a new history to me. Bow to people in gratitude. Study a new language. And I will still be under the same moon as all of my loved ones and friends, so we will still be with you. Many blogs to come...as we go on our first adventure. I have to say a brief and deeply heartfelt message to the life and memory of Matt Freeman. He was a dear high school friend of my husband, Chad. He was a Captain in the Marines. He was shot and killed in Afghanistan. He was a legacy to his community and country. I attended his funeral this past week. I have no recent memory of being this moved. I was moved by military husband's, by my husband, their work, their honor for US and their United States. I could not stop crying and have still not stopped. I had just begun to communicate with Matt's wife who is stationed in Okinawa, where we are to go. I send many, many thoughts of love to his family and wife left behind. God bless.