A Change of Plans.

I wipe the salty tears from my eyes and look down at my filthy, mud covered hands. My muscles are cramping, I’m highly dehydrated, and I all I want to do is sit in this muddy hole and do nothing but cry as I wait for this nightmare called Hashing (basically you follow a leader and run through nature with the intent of having a beer after a long day of exercise) to be over. It’s a typical vacation with my sister. So how did I end up in this muddy hole? Well beside the 17 hour plane ride from the wintry nightmare called Wisconsin to the tropical wonderland that is Guam, my delayed flight forcing me to fly to Japan instead of Hawaii, and my sister waking me up at 6 AM this morning to run through the jungle with her, I’m not too sure. All I know is that if I see one more spider the size of my hand, I’m going to hurl. So I sit in this hole, waiting for my sister to find me. I have discovered that my main purpose in life is to get in sticky situations and have my sister rescue me. I was always the annoying little sister, clinging to her ankles, begging her to take me along to her friends’ house or out to eat. Yet, even after she joined the Navy, and her friends became more diverse and adventures more extravagant, she always encouraged me to take a break from life and join her. So here I was, in a foreign country, with my sister or civilization nowhere in sight, making myself rather comfortable in a rocky pit as I waited for her calls to get louder. And finally, there she was. As she spotted me, a look of relief came across her face and she hopped over to my exhausted self, extended a hand and said, “Hey I've got you kid, it’s going to be ok.” There were those words. The words of complete comfort that she etched into my brain since childhood. She helped me up from the jungle floor and asked if I wanted to go back. I told her no, I would finish this stupid Hash. And that’s what we did, after six hours of hiking through the mountains and jungle, through a river, and plenty of spider webs. As our group made it into the clearing, my sister smiled at me and gave me a warm exhausted hug. “You did it kid.” I had done it. On the ride home, after a delicious well-earned burger, I closed my tired eyes and let the warm breeze flow through my messy hair, humming to myself and smiling. After 18 long year, I now know that wherever I go in life, and whatever hardships I endure, she’ll be with me, reaching out her hand, saying those words: I've got you kid.