Thursday, June 6, 2019

Finding One

C.S. Lewis once said, “​Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” Truer words have never been spoken when referring to a military spouse. With family living so far away in most cases, friends (or framily, as they are often called), become our everything. Friends serve as our stabilizers, our comfort, our balance... they fill the void vacated by the other friends we left behind and the friends who left us​.

Oftentimes in a military community, spouses befriend others by mere convenience and opportunity rather than by common interests and similarities alone. For instance, more times than not, we instantly try to click or bond with our neighbors. We peek out our living room or bedroom windows to see what family is moving in next door or across the street, and we jump at the opportunity to meet them. We find ourselves suddenly having to check our mail, walk the dog, or retrieve something small we must have left in the car “by accident.” While we’re out there, we just happen to see them, talk to them, introduce ourselves, scan their children for approximate ages and genders, and run back inside to text another neighbor down the street all about them. Then we sit and ponder if that new spouse next door is ​the one​. ​Will we have coffee dates? Play dates? Game nights? Will we sit outside and chat while the kids play? Will our husbands get along? Did I come on too strong?? I​t all gives a whole new meaning to “love thy neighbor.”

In all the excitement, there is hope... hope that the new woman next door ​is ​the one... Correction: hope that she will be the ​next one, ​because we all know that other ​ones ​pre-dated her. We lose sight, however, of the fact that this woman who just moved in next door is also wondering who lives in the other houses around her and how long they will be staying. When you’re the new spouse on the block, you’re eventually the one left behind, and the cycle continues.

The late Leo Buscaglia, an American author and motivational speaker, was quoted as saying, “A single rose can be my garden; a single friend, my world.” One real, true friend can be the world to a military spouse, especially during times of deployment. Even when the service members are not deployed, they may spend days, weeks, or months in the field, TDY, or engaged in various training exercises. The military spouse, therefore, is home holding down the fort... literally. Day in and day out we singlehandedly fulfill all the parental duties, housework, grocery shopping, cooking, errands, bills, etc. Without a friend to lean on who can provide an escape, an out, or a distraction for a little bit of time, our worlds would unravel. The realization that we are not alone and can and should lean on our friends reciprocally is a huge step for a military spouse. Some spouses play tough and are determined to handle it all alone. Some head in the opposite direction and actually lean too much. Somewhere in the middle there is a balance that we all must learn as we live cohesively together in this crazy thing called a military community.

This partnership of leaning on each other reminds me of a scene in the movie “Forrest Gump” when Bubba and Forrest find themselves in the combat-ridden, rainy Vietnam. As they lean their
backs against each other and attempt to sleep, Bubba says to Forrest, “I’m gonna lean up against you. You just lean right back against me. This way we don’t have to sleep with our heads in the mud.” Here we are as military spouses, leaning against each other (and ​with​ each other) to keep our heads out of the mud.

​So what happens when​ One​ leaves? Do we fall? Do our heads hit the mud? To some extent, yes. Initially, we are hit with a bout of loneliness. We cry. We mourn the “loss” of our friend. We convince ourselves that no one will ever replace her or fill her shoes. We feel alone. Eventually, however, we start to dig ourselves out of the mud. We emerge from our hole of pity and sadness and look out the window to see a moving truck parked outside the house across the street. We wonder, ​Could it be another One? What are the chances? Do I dare engage? Is it worth the inevitable heartbreak? ​Inexplicably, undoubtedly, unquestionably, yes!

Saturday, March 2, 2019

Change

When we arrived in Hawaii in early July 2015 we had a 4 year old, a 7 year old, and a 9 year old. We also had an 11 year old miniature dachshund. We were excited to start our island life. We already had friends that we were joining, we knew which house was ours, and I was adamant that I was NOT going to work; I was going to enjoy Hawaii and be a stay-at-home mom for the 3 years that we lived in Paradise.

Fast forward almost 4 years, and here we are preparing to move again. We are leaving Hawaii. We were blessed to gain an extra year here. We are leaving with an 8 year old, an 11 year old, and a 13 year old. The kids have grown so much. The youngest one doesn't even remember living anywhere else other than Hawaii. Her skin is sun-kissed tan. Her blond hair has sunshine highlights. She plays outside constantly, soaking up that tropical sun every day with the plethora of sweet neighborhood girls.

Our oldest is a perfect mixture of sassy, smart, stubborn, shy, and sensible. Despite leaving middle school with one year to go before high school, she doesn't complain. She looks forward to what our house and community has to offer in Louisiana. After researching the various schools in the area, she weighs in with just one request... "Please don't send me to the school that has uniforms!"

Then there is the boy... the one who worries me the most. The one who struggles with anxiety and ADHD and, despite being brilliantly smart and bright beyond his years, he struggles in school because he cannot pay attention in math class when he has such a good book to read that is distracting him in his desk (most recently White Fang by Jack London). So he comes home at the end of each week with a packet of incomplete work that he must do before he can play. Middle School will eat him alive. I hope he's happy in Louisiana and that he can make friends.

I am leaving Hawaii with a very bittersweet feeling in my heart. I've been happy here. I have made friends that I will always keep. Many friends have already moved away. Some I will leave behind. (Thank goodness for modern-day technology!) Ultimately, I was a stay-at-home mom for about 2 months before submitting an application to be a substitute teacher, and then I ended up teaching full time for 3 out of 4 years here. I bonded with coworkers that will be my friends from here on out. They have seen me laugh, cry, succeed, fail, grow, plateau, overcome, and learn every day.

Our dachshund who came to the Aloha State as an 11 year old left us as a 14 year old last fall and crossed "the rainbow bridge" in a place where rainbows are plentiful. This transition to Louisiana will be the first time we have ever moved without him in the 6 moves that we have made. I miss him every day. Our "Hawaiian poi dog" that we acquired from the streets of Pearl City 3 years ago will go with us this time. She has her quirks, but we love her just the same.

I cannot reflect on our lives here without mentioning the one person who is responsible for bringing us here in the first place. He works a lot. He often works late. He has an exceptional work ethic, and he provides for our family (especially since my teaching salary does not, but that's another story!). He puts up with my constantly shifting ideas of what I want to do with my life (children's book author, Yoga instructor, tennis player, avid runner, etc.). He keeps chugging along at his career and takes the good with the bad and makes sure that we all have everything we need (and a lot of things that we want). He even thinks he "gets me," and he's always willing to appease me when I get restless and need to travel or make a change in my life.

Change. Everything is changing. We will live in a different state with different neighbors in a different house on a different street and drive a different car in different weather in a different part of the country. I am comfortable here. Part of me is already lamenting everything that I will miss when we are gone. The other part of me is excited about what is coming ahead. We will be ok. Through all the change, we still have each other. We will trade our pitaya bowls and poke' for crawfish and we will embrace it and continue to be happy together.