I have to briefly write about two things. I came to write about the second half of this post specifically, but when I entered the title for this post, I remembered last night’s activities…
I’ve been doing cross-fit twice a week now for the last few weeks. It’s just one of my friends, K – a military member, who’s gotten a group of girls together who are interested in bettering their fitness. I guess, for what feels like the first time in my life, I actually fall into this category.
In addition to this, I’ve been walking nightly with a down-the-street neighbour of mine, J5, sometimes walking, riding (mountain bikes) and cross fitting all in one day.
M, in the interest of bettering his cardio prior to deployment, has gotten it into his head that he should be doing weighted marches (a walk in combats carrying a backpack full of soup cans, in this case), and joined J5 and I a few days ago for our walk. We noticed we walked at a faster pace with M beside us. He also did interval runs up the block and back while we kept our new pace on our usual route.
So the big news, for me anyway; Last night J5 couldn’t come for the nightly walk, so it was just M and I. Him weighted, and me in the Sugoi 3/4 length pants I bought as a “goal” item (size L, something to aspire to – they’re waaay too tight), we did interval runs on an extended version of the route J5 and I take. By the time we got back onto the main road which leads back to our Q, we were alternately walking/sprinting from light post to light post. The strip is probably 1km long, so by the time we hit our street, I was winded pretty good.
But I feel amazing this morning, and am disappointed it won’t happen again for a few days as tonight M and I have a dinner with friends, and tomorrow is a big appreciation do for winning the IRP contract for the next 5 years. They’re paying us to go to the nearest capital city for dinner, dancing (on a Tuesday night! hah!), and a night in a hotel, not to mention paid time for travel and time off work to get there. One of our sister offices gets to fly in, lucky ladies.
Suffice to say, Wednesday is cross-fit again, and hopefully slightly more running.
* * *
What I actually came to write about was a conversation moments ago with M. There’s a lot of paper work we’re sitting on, trying to get a loan to pay down some of our ridiculous credit debt, making us officially common law (which we have been in the eyes of the province for the last 6 months, but because the clerks and bigwigs can’t coordinate themselves, not in the eyes of the military because we haven’t signed some blasted paper work), and getting M’s affairs legally in order so that things happen and people are notified properly of any issues that may arise.
The biggest issue, and the elephant in the room of our relationship, is the possibility of M’s death. Today he said something about the Memorial Cross. This is the medal given to the service members family upon his/her death. Kind of a big deal for the family left behind. He said that it would be awarded to his mother. Before I really understood what he was saying, I asked why, and he said, “because she’s my mother”. The old anger in me flared up but wasn’t given the opportunity to explode into the room before M corrected himself and suggested, “there’s room for three names here, maybe you each get one. I’ll add my brothers name as well”.
See, this is why I want to be a wife. I understand that his mother will never lose that rank in his life, even if we do marry, but outside of our relationship dynamic, I feel it gives me more clout. I’m not ‘just a girlfriend’, I’m a committed member of his family. We together are a family. Period.
When we started this life together in March of 2008, I was welcomed into the fold of Army Wives here, and upon introduction and them asking about ‘my husband’, I quickly corrected them to say he was ‘just my boyfriend’. They told me, “that doesn’t matter – you live here, you’re committed, you’re a wife”.
I refuse to accept the title of Wife, and honour him the title of Husband until there is an official commitment made. I never thought I’d find myself being this traditional, but I want society to acknowledge the commitment we have made to one another.
Heaven forbid the necessity to receive the Memorial Cross. For any of us “wives”.
h&v
