Once again, it depends

My recovery from the surgery was easy and disappointing. I didn’t get to play the sympathy card nearly as much as I had looked forward to doing. I was in some pain and had to move easily and slowly for a few weeks but that was it. I immediately started concocting stories as to how I got the scars. “I was stabbed in a bar brawl.” “A playful lion cub at the Belize zoo got me.” “Pumpkin carving got out of control this year.” The biopsy on the lumps came back negative.

The man who was assigned to our security clearance finished two weeks early. We both received our medical clearances. Some time later, there was a phone message from the man assigned to ur security clearance. He had some questions for me. Yikes. I sweated and my heart raced. I called him right away to get it over with. He apologized and said that someone in the State Department wanted clarification of something. He was looking over the application that Doug had turned in and said "He says that during his period of unemployment he was home looking for work. Is this true?" "Yes." "Alright, then. That's all I need." WHAT??!! That's it? Really, what did they think I'd say, "No he was out prostituting himself. I'm just a piano teacher and we really needed the money." Jeez. We received the final security clearance soon after. The last hurdle was the "Final Suitability". This is where someone goes through his file with the proverbial fine toothed comb to see if there is any reason he may not be a good fit. This is considered a formality by many, however some have been turned away at this point. Doug had been reading of a couple of cases. One involving someone who had experimented with drugs years ago and another who was dismissed from an employer under suspicious circumstances from which they were later acquitted. It was enough to keep them out of the Foreign Service.

The smattering of good news-bad news and the unknown left me feeling a bit unstable at times. I’d overreact. I’d under react. I would give everything I did one chance. If it didn’t work I’d declare any efforts on my part fruitless; what would happen would happen regardless of my input and I’d peacefully wander on. I wouldn’t be in this life that much longer anyway.

We spent our 2009 Memorial Day weekend on the road to the Chicago area to meet with two couples who had served for years in the Foreign Service and one couple in our position as new hires. We were able to hear their stories and ask questions. It was very soon humorous because every (no exception, no kidding) answer began with the words “Well, it depends.” “Do we need to take our furniture with us?” “Is the job 9-5 or 24/7?” “Will I be able to work?” “Will we have a house or an apartment?” “Can I get around and see the country while Doug works?” You get the idea. And that has been a huge frustration as well as serious patience builder. Everything depends on something else. It’s cosmic, man.

Even though we knew that Doug was in, we still didn’t know when he’d get called to the training class. More waiting. It was like being in the theater; you’re on! Go! Perform! Now sit in the wings and cool your heels for the next hour or two. 3-2-1 Go! In a way we needed time at home; time to say goodbye, time to fix up the house to be a rental property, time for us to visit our out of state families. In another way, we just wanted to move on.

I was (and still am) quite concerned about fitting in and being the proper image for my new life and Doug’s new career. I have sat in front of a mirror watching myself eat. If you want a serious Miss Manners wake up call, do this. At age 47, I threw out the last of my college clothes (see? I told you I don’t have a weight problem) and went shopping at places like Talbots (thank you, Marna). I figured that at least I’ll look the part. What happens after my mouth opens is in the cards, but I’ll look good so help me.

Speaking of opening my mouth, I’ve been practicing using it less. I love the word practice. I’ll probably be using it a lot. Practice indicates determination but not necessarily ability. On our last Sunday at St. Anne’s Episcopal Church I gave the homily at the early service outdoors and Doug did so at the late service indoors. I asked the people gathered there to complete this sentence: Practice makes _____. Of course they said perfect. I asked them if they truly believed that. They laughed. I told them that I believe practice makes permanent. So I do a lot of practicing with great hopes. I have practiced thanking Doug for pointing out the obvious to me before I even have a chance of demonstrating that I already know it (like take off the parking brake before backing up). Thank you. When someone has interrupted me or is not answering the question I asked, I have practiced hearing them out before I have my say. I have practiced saying a variety of truly colorful words rather than vulgar, (the old definition of common) foul swear words. And these things take practice, dear reader; they do not come easily. I have noticed that what happens is I realize the act is not so difficult or painful, it is laying no blame that is hard. But nog it (one of the truly colorful expressions) if I don’t look good while setting that all important good example. If that sounds boastful, forgive me. I do not always set that good example. I have, however, learned from many who have, at the right time, set a good example for me. So I know what it looks like because I’ve seen it. Their lesson live on. Thank you.

I was tempted (not very, but I was) to have a t-shirt made with the answers to the most often asked questions. It would have had two words on it: it depends.

Where will you go? It depends on open posts, everyone’s medical clearance levels, the desires of others and our desires (in that order).

When will you get to come home? It depends on the length of each post; usually two years but perhaps one or three and not a literal calendar year but approximate years.

What will you do while Doug works at the Embassy or Consulate? It depends on my grasp of the language. I hope to write and tell stories as well as learn the nation’s folktales. If we are posted in one of the south sea island embassies I’ll walk my legs lean on the beaches and learn to dance. If we are posted in Siberia I will stay at home and become a fat drunk. It depends.
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