Some thoughts from little Jacki

I just happened upon this today. I wrote this for my college writing class my senior year (2008). Thought I'd share some thoughts of little Jacki...


Since the end of my first trimester junior year, plans of prank-filled escapades lasting far past twilight and lethargic days of sleeping until the sun had reached the top of the blue sky had been conspired. Those simple indulgences were the solitary guarantees I had at that moment in time: a happy-go-lucky summer spent in the company of my best friends making memories that would endure a lifetime.

I had even composed a summer checklist of kooky things that I hoped to complete before returning for my senior year. Stupid stuff, like fully encompass a close friend's house in mass amounts of cheap, white toilet paper. The home that had once been adjacent to a perfectly manicured lawn would be disguised as a winter wonderland in the heart of summer.

Those plans fell through my tender 17 year-old hands when I made the impulsive decision to join the Army National Guard in early February. My mind never fully comprehended what I was getting myself into or how much I would have to sacrifice. Instead, those things were overlooked in an effort to be unique (go where none of my friends had dared to go) and to live a life that was unexpected and exhilarating. That dazzling allure was what drew me in.

Instead of a carefree summer like I had intended, my time would be spent in the intense South Carolina heat that usually reached over 100 degrees on a good day. The unbearable temperature did not include the high humidity, which usually was the main contributor to my sweat-soaked uniforms. I never knew before joining what it felt like to take something as insignificant as a shower for granted or to know the true joy that erupted at the sight of mail time. A single letter from home could make an otherwise joyless day.

My homecoming from basic training fell towards the end of August. I had spent an entire summer away from my security blanket of close friends and family. My return was filled with uncertainty, because I felt like I had changed drastically over the summer.

My return was simple. I quickly adapted to my old life, and began to get in the groove of things. Lost time with my friends was quickly made up, and it almost felt like I had never left.

However, like most people who had encountered a life-altering experience, I had discovered how important it was to appreciate the small things. Small things like fighting with my brother, driving my beater car (which I callously refer to as "Rosie"), or even watching a side-splitting movie on a Friday night. Those simple things were what I had yearned for this summer. This resulted in an internal stuggle not to tell my friends my exact feelins when they complained about trivial things. They could have it so much worse, but they need their own experience to verify what I already know to be true.

The realization has hit us that this is our last year together, so time is of the essence. Soon, we'll be dispersed across the country, playing grown-up. They'll all be attending college. Two days following my high school graduation, I venture off to complete my second half of military training.

The second half of military training is referred to as Advanced Individual Training (AIT). This is where a soldier learns about his or her actual job. I am in HUMINT (human intelligence). My MOS is currently in high demand. I am guaranteed to be shipped to Iraq or the surrounding area within a year unless extenuating circumstances occur.

When I was a little more naïve, I believed my single guarantee for the future was that it would be a carbon copy of what my friends were doing. Now, my mind races as the meaning of two phrases flash through my mind: shipping out for AIT and the war in Iraq. That's my new solitary guarantee that I have for my future.