May 2013 {Part 1}

May 19, 2013 in Life {in?}side the Corps

I haven’t written in quite a while. And, I’ll probably write this one without sharing, because… Well, because I honestly don’t know how many care or want to hear my rants or believe that there’s any validity in any of my thoughts/feelings.

PTSD is running rampant here. It’s a no-holds-barred type of chaos that neither of us can explain. The man is overcome with a command that is in no way interested in seeing him get better, but rather just continuing to get out of him what they can. He is often made to feel as if he is scum because of a limited duty status that makes him non-deployable.

Trust me, I get it. From the command’s perspective, they want a man with this amount of experience in country. I GET IT.

From the homefront perspective? GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY OF HIS PROGRESS! What is wrong with you that you have to use and abuse a man who has been used and abused so many times over the past 15 years that he is sometimes only a shell of the person we all once recognized?

He’s not threatening to commit suicide (although, sometimes homicide – that’s a JOKE, son), he’s not abusing drugs or alcohol or the wife or the kids, and he still shows up to work and performs his duties well – so, apparently that means he is faking all of the rest of it. I can safely assure you the short fuse, the memory issues, the lack of joy, the extreme frustration, the night terrors, the inability to relax – none of those are fake.

The behavior which his command calls belligerent? That’s not a lot of fun for him to deal with either, folks. He doesn’t exactly ENJOY being enraged all the time.

The “hyper-alert-doesn’t-even-begin-to-describe-you” actions? Those are stressful and exhausting for him to endure every day. Your limited interaction with them doesn’t make you expert enough to label him, belittle him, or encourage him to “just stop it”.

When a Marine (a Marine of THIS calibre, at least) walks into a situation where he admits his pain level is a 7? Please, realize it’s at least a 12. Don’t write it off. Please help. That’s as much a cry for help as you’re ever going to see and if unanswered, the repercussions could be devastating.

I’m just the wife, mind you. I don’t feel what he feels. I haven’t seen what he’s seen. I don’t have to process all of that in my head. (And for all of that I am thankful and have the utmost respect for my husband.)

And yet, I feel about ready to strangle the next 10 people that walk in front of me just because THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND. How can I expect them to? What I live with is unknown to 99% of the country’s current population (fake statistic by me; please don’t get carried away on looking it up or telling me I’m wrong).

I crave justice in an unjust world. I crave respect in a community of disrespect. I constantly pray and hope and talk my poor best friend’s ear off about finding SOMEONE that  says, “Enough is enough; give this man his due respect.”

We do not, thank God, live in a culture similar to that which the Viet Nam vets experienced when returning home. My husband has never been spit upon for doing his duty. He is, however, experiencing a metaphorical spitting upon because of his current inability to serve in his previous manner.

Mostly, this is my current internal rant finally put into words. I can’t really blast it on Facebook because everyone that read it would assume I hate them, and that’s not at all accurate. I’m frustrated by some of the “I understand” reactions, when in fact, you should never PRETEND to understand something you can’t possibly. I’m frustrated by a reaction I’ve received several times by other wives who think I don’t understand because my husband is non-deployable. Or, even worse? Those wives whose spouses also have PTSD and blatantly say, “No, that’s not PTSD, that sounds more like jack-ass-ery” (them with all of the experience of 1 or 2 deployments and 4 or 6 years of service).

But, outside of a rant? It’s a reminder to you. We celebrated Armed Forces Day yesterday, we’ll honor a (NOT HAPPY) Memorial Day next weekend. And then, before you know it, we’ll be rolling around into Veteran’s Day. Thank a vet. I mean, a serious hug around the neck and kiss smack on their lips. Shake the spouse’s hand. Cuddle the kiddos. This life, with all of it’s “lavish benefits” (I didn’t even dare blog about the Huffington Post article, and I won’t link it now because it’s been renamed and reworded after a massive outcry), is DIFFICULT.

I don’t just miss my husband when he’s gone for 5 days on a business trip; I fear for his life on 6-9 month long deployments (and the Marine Corps serves shorter deployments than the Army). I don’t just get frustrated with 12 hour work days occasionally; I get frustrated with 12-14 hour work days day upon day upon day with no overtime pay.

And the deployments and the money? That’s not even half as difficult as the battle that begins when the Warrior returns home. The War will not ever leave him; the struggle will always remain. The negative connotation of the term PTSD (thanks, mostly, to Hollywood, and others who understand it even less) is not reality. But, the hurt? That’s real. And long-lasting. And it deserves at least a thanks from a grateful nation. Please don’t forget it.

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Do You Hear What I Hear?

December 19, 2012 in Life {in?}side the Corps, Uncategorized

I started writing last year about Life {in?}side the Corps, which ended up being a 4 part writing. And then I basically dropped the ball and stopped writing about it, because … well, for a few reasons.

It wasn’t affecting us. Except that some Navy professionals had mentioned Mr. Marine may be forced out, PTSD was not affecting our lives. Everything was fine. Why not just let a sleeping giant sleep?

Life got flipped, turned upside down. No, I’m not exaggerating, and even moreso since I wrote that post.

Large impact moments that happen in a short amount of space take approximately 25 times longer to process. Who knew?!

** ** **

So, we’re in the desert, and it’s Afghanistan-land,and permanently stationing an Afghanistan veteran here who has PTSD isNOT a good idea. (Someonedoes need to teach the Marine Corps about logic!) Mr. Marine felt it best to basically bow out gracefully at this point, and applied for early retirement back in October.  We found out yesterday that early retirement has been denied and, in Marine-speak, it was a “big kick in the balls”. We were already looking very forward to being able to live life outside of the Corps sooner rather than later, hopefully seeing more progress in regards to PTSD without the ongoing stress of his career in the way, and on and on.

We know better than to plan ahead in this lifestyle!  But, we did anyway.

So, now it’s back to normalcy. As normal as we can make it while learning to adjust to the myriad of ways PTSD affects our life. And feeling celebratory right now is a bit tricky. (You do remember that the Marine Corps chose Christmas time last year to give us cross-country moving orders, right? You do the math – including deployments, we’ve been together 6 Christmases and USMC has successfully messed up 4 of them for us.)

Except …

Do you see what I see? A star dancing in the night, with a tail as big as a kite.

Do you hear what I hear? A song high above the trees, with a voice as big as the sea.

Do you know what I know? A child shivers in the cold; let us bring him silver and gold.

Listen to what I say! Pray for peace, people everywhere. A child sleeping in the night; he will bring us goodness and light.

I’m preaching to myself here: Take comfort in the beauty of small moments this holiday season. There are some royally ugly things happening in our world, and it clouds our moods and threatens to steal our joy. TAKE IT BACK!

Stare at the star-filled skies and know The Creator granted you that beauty.

Feel the wind whip around you and let it comfort you with whispers from loved ones you wish you could hold this holiday season.

Give gifts to children, even in the smallest of ways, for the example was set us for us many years ago.

Pray for peace. Remember those who are serving to protect yours this season, as well as their families, and be always mindful of those sacrifices.

Do not let your heart be filled with commercial meditations; instead, fill your minds with the Creator of the world, presenting Himself as an infant, to bring goodness and light.

Look for it – it DOES still exist.

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T-H-A-N-K-S-G-I-V-I-N-G 2012

November 19, 2012 in My Ramblings

 

In my family we have this tradition in which we create an acrostic of the word Thanksgiving to tell what we’re thankful for. We also eat raisins during the Thanksgiving parade. Both I still take part in and gladly teach my own children about. For now, the Littles care more about the raisins than the acrostic, but eventually it’ll all click with them.

Some years this is easier to write than others. There have been years of extreme sadness and pain, years of deployments, years of great joy and overwhelming obvious blessings. This year is sorta right in the middle for me. Life *could* be so much worse. I have personally experienced worse, and I am all too aware of seats that will be empty across the country this year, so I know that complaints are not at all appropriate. Here’s the moment when I focus on the blessings and ignore the stressors. After all, “…as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he…” (Proverbs 23:7, KJV)

T – Turkey. I have absolutely no idea why my excitement for turkey is overflowing this year, but it is. We will not have a houseful – most likely it will only be Mr. Marine, myself, and the Littles – but the turkey is what binds us across the miles to family and friends we wish we could be with. When you begin carving your own this year, remember we all are in this together. Yeah. Turkey binds us to one another. (And with that, I don’t blame you if you stop reading now!)

H – Honesty. There have been many moments, especially in the last few months, when life seemed more than slightly crazy and unbearable. It turns out – when you just start with honesty, most of the rest of it all will disappear. I mean, problems don’t leave, but when you start with a firm foundation of, “No matter what, we’re going to talk this through together”, you can tackle absolutely anything with your teammates in life. It’s a lesson I’ve been taught since the days I sat on my grandmother’s knee, but it took a strong and beautiful person to look at me this year and remind me – quite firmly – to start with honesty. It really does make a huge difference.

A – Awareness. This is basically my go-juice these days.  With the reality of PTSD hitting our family like a semi truck, there have been many moments of realizing that others just don’t understand. I have always believed that if I have to walk down some really rough paths, the least I can do is teach others and help them when/if they have to walk a similar path. I am extremely grateful that I’m not the only person that believes this and that there have been others willing to teach me. And, that there have been others willing to ask questions and learn about our path. It’s a phenomenal thing when you start to see the beauty in humans again.

N – Notre Dame. Okay, if you know me – you KNEW I would go there this year. 11-0?! Are you KIDDING me?!  What an amazing team!! Even if they were 0-11, I would have learned so much from them this year, I would still be screaming like a crazy woman at the television every Saturday, and I would still know Irish football is one bond I have with my family absolutely every weekend. But, Manti Te’o – you have taught me so much about life this year. I am in absolute awe and so thankful for such a positive role model to young fans everywhere.

K -Kids. I have 5. In case you didn’t realize it, that’s enough to make up the starting portion of a basketball team. And starters they are, for a starting team is always where your best talent is showcased. The five best things I’ve ever done with my life exist in two groups known as the Bigs and Littles in my world. From the drum-playing 14 year old to the art-loving 11 year old to the butterfly-like 9 year old to the almost-27 4 year old to the barrel-of-laughs 1 year old … that’s the best I have to offer, folks. They *amaze* me as often as I stop and pay attention to it all; the moments when I’m not lost in the muck and mire, their lives lift me up.

S – Sounds. As a stay at home mom, sometimes the noise bombards me until I just want to go climb under one of the many rock piles in the desert. (Thank goodness I’m aware of scorpions and snakes, both of which prevent me from doing such a silly thing.) But, as I’m sitting here typing, I hear the oldest Little repeating “Neigggghhhhh!” over and over again (her new favorite animal is a horse, in case you couldn’t tell) and the youngest Little saying, “Mamamamama” (which is his newest life lesson). I’ve heard an alto sax play a piece of music unrecognizable to me over the phone with 2,600 miles between us. I’ve listened to plans for college preparation and squeals of laughter span that 2,600 miles as well. I’m glad I can hear those things – even the things that make my heart hurt.

G – Go. As in, “Go West, Young Man“. It has NOT been an easy transition. In fact, living here has brought monsters out of the closet we never expected to deal with. But, with those monsters comes a determination to persevere, to seek out help, to cling to one another and to a Creator. Going West has brought out the best and worst of life, and the roller coaster has been exhilarating and exhausting. It’s a ride I would never trade in.

I – Inspiration. I’m quite extremely thankful that inspiration has struck and O’Seven Eleven Creations is doing well with client orders and a partnership with an amazing company.  Sometimes God looks at your little talents and maximizes them to a place you never even dreamed would be a possibility. This is a VERY cool happening.

V – Vegas. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe Las Vegas, Nevada, would make it on to my Thanksgiving list, but this year it does. For the three days we had without children, to remember what it feels like to just be in love and to not concentrate on everything that has been going wrong, to just unwind – I will be forever thankful.

Veterans. I cannot write this list without mentioning these men and women who have served and are serving for a cause they may not understand or even believe in, simply so my own children hopefully do not have to pay the price in the future. This holiday season my heart is specifically heavy, as my best friend will sit at home without her Soldier, her first ever experience as being the spouse of a deployed Soldier left at home, as she too is active duty. My table will always hold an empty spot to commemorate those who should be with us, those we should specifically remember in our thanksgiving.

I – Intuition. I have a hard time getting this one into words, but those moments when I “just know” exactly what to do, to say, to reach out – those moments are what miracles are made of.

N – Nights. The moments when the kids are both sleeping soundly and the stars illuminate the desert sky and I can sit and hold my husband’s hand are absolute God-sends.

G – Generosity. At moments when life is rough or overwhelming, there have been people who have literally come from every direction and given generously – of their time, of their care and concern – to lift us up. There’s nothing like seeing an incoming phone call or mail package simply because someone wanted to bless us, completely unselfishly. I, too, have enjoyed giving generously of my time to others, helping them walk their own paths, and have felt a sense of peace from that giving.

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Back in the Fleet Again

October 8, 2012 in Life {in?}side the Corps

We’ve been at this new duty station now for 7 weeks. It’s a weird beast, in many ways, and while I try not to complain too much, it’s important to share.

My husband does a job I can’t ever imagine doing, and for that I am thankful.  His 16-hour workdays, regular 12-mile humps, and dealings with Marines in general is exhausting to just HEAR about. I’d be a complete disaster if they suddenly started requiring wives to do the same. {Translation for civilians: “humps” are hikes with a 60-pound pack on their backs, full cammies in the hot sun, and sometimes including flak jackets and helmets.}

And then, after 2 weeks of “office work”, which mind you is nothing like real “office work” at all, he got to go on a 28-day training op. Not a full month mind you, because if he was gone for over 30 days we would be paid a “family separation” pay for the month. Of course, they like to take full advantage of our military members without actually reimbursing them for that time apart, so 28 days it is.

So, he’s doing this training, and it’s a bit difficult to swallow. Quite honestly, it’s the very first time he’s ever done this training package, and after 15 years in the Corps and 8 deployments, we are obviously well aware that this training package is not NECESSARY, which makes it hard to handle for the families that remain behind.  Add that to our VERY new status in a VERY new environment, and you’ll see how frustrations can rise quickly.

The Littles and I are trying to figure life out without Daddy around again.  They don’t remember these things, have no concept of time, and have NO idea what the next 2-ish years are going to look like in their lives – but I think that makes it worse. When you can’t just have a sit down chat about what to expect next, you find yourself having to re-address the issue about every 7 to 8 minutes.

I’m meeting more wives, although this duty station is unlike anything I’ve experienced prior. As one new friend put it yesterday, “It’s hard to get people to come out of hiding here!” I’m confident that we WILL survive (because, quite frankly, what choice do we have?!), but the transition period is MUCH longer than anything I had imagined.

This brings me to the point of my post: the things NOT to say to military spouses while their husbands are away.

1. Do not say, “Well at least he’s not deployed!” Listen, these training ops are called work-ups for a reason. That means that for the next year-ish, he will be gone more than he’s home, and THEN he will be gone on a deployment. I can safely assure you that most of us hate work-ups MORE than deployments. On a deployment, you can bank on the fact that for at least 6 months straight, you don’t have to make dinner, clean the house, nor worry about his schedule at all. During work-ups? Nothing is a given, and your brain plays tricks on you constantly.

2. Do not, as a civilian, pretend that you understand. It’s MUCH better for you to say, “I’m sorry” than saying, “Mine is leaving for a week, so I know how you feel.” This is something we often talk about amongst ourselves as spouses, but rarely have the guts to say to our civilian friends. I know that anytime a family member is missing for more than the normal time, it’s difficult on a family. But, especially if yours is in a 3+ star hotel and may only be gone for a total of 2 weeks this year, just keep your mouth quiet ;) I don’t mean to be rude; I simply mean to let you know that it’s not helpful for us at all.

3. DO offer to help! We are notoriously strong and independent women, but I don’t know a military spouse yet that wouldn’t jump at the chance for a shower without having to worry about her kids for 15 minutes. Now, I’m not going to ASK for that luxury, but if it were offered me, I would probably cry over the kindness of the offer.

4. Do not assume we can take care of our own. We do, mind you. Most of my life is filled with calling other wives to make sure they’re doing okay with whatever is currently going on in their husbands’ careers. But, there are times – like right now in my own life – when every single one of my closest military spouse friends are going through their own trials. I’m not going to call the young woman whose husband is facing an early retirement to ask her to help me get a peaceful shower in today. Sometimes hearing from someone outside of the military life is invaluable. It means there are actually people out there that value our sacrifices, and knowing it’s valued makes the sacrifices far more “do-able”.

5. Do not assume there’s nothing you can do to help. There are about a million things you can do to help out military spouses!! If they are stationed far from home, send care packages with reminders of home, send small new toys or clothes or bubble bath to her and the kids, and gift certificates to local places as a treat. If they are stationed in your backyard, offer to watch the kids for 3 hours and let Mom do whatever she wants to do during that time. (Better yet, take the kids to your house, and let Mom just sit in her own house!) Entertain them!! Whether a phone call during nap time or after bed time, or a bottle of wine in the driveway, or an invitation to coffee or dinner – kicking the boredom is imperative, and it’s hard to do on our own after a while!

I’m sure there are several more pieces of advice I could offer, but I’m starting to sound like I’m throwing a pity party here.  Just remember that this life is a bit chaotic, but we do it because we believe wholeheartedly in the freedoms this country offers – enough that we are willing to sacrifice almost everything to keep them. When we begin to realize there are others out there who are willing to support us in the chaos – that’s when it becomes liveable, and maybe even enjoyable.

 

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Upon our Arrival

August 22, 2012 in Wandering Wednesdays

We’ve been here for about a week and a half now. Here being the middle of nowhere, The Stumps, the land of mostly unhappy Marines and spouses, the in-the-middle-of-nowhere-close-to-everything land, the Mojave Desert. Or, at least that’s what I knew it as before we arrived.

And this … this is what I know my desert land as now.  It’s a world full of browns – and reds and oranges and yellows and greens and … amazingness. It is not barren, as I expected – it just requires closer inspection. And let’s forget about expecting grass in your yard, okay? Miracles generally require a little bit of effort on your own part, Moron.

So, my physical self is satisfied.  When the Creator paints sunsets like that or star-filled nights like what I’ve been seeing, how can your very soul not sing?! (Although learning how to photograph said starry nights would be fantastic – even better if I could have photographed the lightning storm we watched last night.)

My emotional self is torn. I made a commitment over 5 years ago to a man who dedicates his life to our country. I don’t think I really knew what I was doing then, but God did.  The truest measure of this commitment, aside from the ups and downs of being married to an active duty veteran, is contained in this scripture: “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people….” (Ruth 1:16)  His people are indeed my people, even when we are all scattered clear across the world. I’m grateful for a support system, but I am anxious to meet new wives in this new duty station that will need my support and allow me to rely on them during deployments.

Which is exactly where my mind is most often these days. Deployments. We’ve enjoyed 3 years non-deployable, I’ve been spoiled rotten to finally have my Marine home for that long at one time, and now we are back to a Victor unit again. A Marine Grunt’s only job in this war-torn decade is to deploy, to fight the war, to keep his brothers safe, to come home alive. Except when sometimes they don’t. (RIP, SSgt Ergin V. Osman) And it’s the part about those who cross over that puts every Grunt wife on edge time after time. So, forgive me while I feel a bit uncertain about what’s coming ahead – it’s the not knowing, people. It’s not the incapability. In fact, Grunt wives do not know the meaning. We can handle ANYTHING when we are finally let in on a few details.

There are many other first-time emotions here.  This land is obviously very different from coastal living, as we have been used to for so long. People do NOT say y’all here, and they look at me strange when I do (though I don’t care, and won’t change). The stores are laid out different, and there are very few stores here that I am used to. In fact, there’s very little shopping at all. My front porch sittings no longer involve some very beautiful women stopping out for a visit, as they did in VA Beach. Even picking up the phone at an appropriate time to call the east coast is proving challenging. I miss every member of our families now, which is quite possibly only because I’m keenly aware of how long it will be until we see anyone again.

It’s a challenge, in a multitude of ways.

But, you know what? They never promised you a Rose Garden. And the wife wasn’t issued. I consider it an honor to serve in my capacity, can not wait to add some more Devil Dogs to our family here in the desert, and smile at my husband every moment possible, because I am a member of a grateful nation, as well as a proud wife.

Thanks to all of you for your words of kindness, encouraging pieces of mail (who knew how wonderful opening my mailbox could be!!), for your interest in our lives! We are blessed.

 

 

 

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A Direction Remembered

August 3, 2012 in My Ramblings

Those are my two beautiful nephews and Little #1.  This past week, as we are finishing up our transitional time in the land of corn fields and humidity, the most adorable little boys in the world (well, except for my own) stayed and played and complained and laughed.  It was, all in all, an excellent time together.  Certainly very good for Little #1 to get to know her cousins better; or, as she calls them, “my boys”.

We went to parks, ate ice cream, had picnics, snapped green beans, learned valuable lessons, ate breakfasts, took pictures, ate lunches (but NOT ham salad for these two!), snuggled for about two seconds flat, and ate dinners. (We did a lot of eating. They’re growing boys, ya know.)

So, one morning the kids are sitting around the table on the deck, eating their breakfasts.  The boys are sitting opposite one another, with the girl opposite an empty chair.  They’re eating, talking, and probably planning for whatever would come next. And then, Papa comes out, and sits down in that empty chair.

Now pay attention.

My Little #1 excitedly exclaims, “Mama, I’m sitting next to Papa!”

And the boys both cry out, “Nuh-uh! I am!!”

And the boys were right, logistically speaking.

***

Here’s the thing. My Littles have been asked to live out a pretty crazy life, because of a contract that Daddy signs. It has already, apparently, given Little #1 a very different outlook on what phrases like “next to” means.  If she’s on the same porch, that’s close. As opposed to, ya know – 1,000 miles of separation, or many many more, as we will ask her to do very soon.

That very brief interaction this week reminded me to be more aware of the direction we’ve chosen and the sacrifices it means for our kiddos.

For you military parents, how do you make it more bearable for your kiddos? And for the civilians in the group, what are you doing to support those kiddos who are, quite unknowingly, bearing witness to a contract in their every day moments?

 

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This is a Story All About How My Life Got Flipped, Turned Upside Down

July 18, 2012 in My Ramblings

This is a story all about how
My life got flipped, Turned upside down
And I’d like to take a minute, Just sit right there
I’ll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air

So, I’m not exactly on a road to prince-dom.
Or, Bel Air, for that matter.

But my life has definitely been flipped, turned upside down.

It all started December 28, 2011. That’s the day The Orders came. Go West, Young Man! it has now been almost 7 months of a battle within for me. I thought I would write more about it, but the truth is y’all only can stand to hear so much venting, and sometimes venting to an open screen is not therapeutic. Who would have thought?!

So, as we have prepared to make this journey westward to Twentynine Palms, California (and why don’t they hyphenate Twentynine, seriously?!), there have been many … Moments.

We decluttered, so less STUFF would have to move with us. Our Household Goods shipment only reached 4,500 pounds, and the military movers (who allow 11,000 pounds) were shocked by that. We are moving 14.5 years of a military career and two small children, after all, they reasoned. Are you sure there isn’t more stuff somewhere, they asked repeatedly.

We said goodbye to VA Beach.
To people who have surrounded us for three years.
To people we just recently met and fell in love with.
To two-miles-to-the-oceanfront.
To random walks on the beach.
To a tiny townhouse where we brought our son home.
To walks to Target and my favorite Starbucks barista.
To Trader Joe’s runs at 10 pm.
To corn hole tournaments, poolside sitting, smoked feasts of spectacular food, babies that had been recently born, babies long awaited and (finally!) about to arrive, new battles with cancer, and on and on.

To non-deployable life in the Marine Corps.

(Pardon me for a minute while I wipe away the tears. I’m missing people/things that cannot be replaced.)

Our belongings were packed by an amazing three-person team, while I joked that I felt like I had hired slave labor for the day, and put my feet up and read a book anyway.

A semi truck pulled up … Well, kinda, but that’s a whole other long story … To take everything to storage in the desert until we can arrive.

The Littles and I did the unthinkable (I mean, I’m almost 35, people!!) and moved to my parents’ house for just over 8 weeks. My precious father drove down to pick us up, loaded everything into their van, and drove back on very little sleep.

We have been here for 5.5 weeks now. AJ is in preschool and loving it. She’s temperamental and stubborn, but she is strong and for that I’m grateful. It will serve her well in this military life she did not ask for, but was committed to by our choices. Ozzy is crawling and eating and sleeping (okay, only a little, but we will survive), and his smiles brighten my everyday life.

We did a vow renewal on 7 July! I’ve dreamed of a real wedding ceremony so many times, after our quick Justice of the Peace shindig five years ago, and I really truly had my dreams come true!

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I’ve visited with the Bigs and had memorable moments during that time. Amazing conversations, precious hugs, a genuine talk about what these new orders mean for all of us….

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I’ve seen family, had great times (and, let’s be honest, not so great moments) with all of them, and created memories to last a lifetime.

Which they may have to do, because have I mentioned how far away we are moving?

My sisters, my parents, my in-laws … All so supportive and encouraging and amazing.

My dad is a pastor, in case you’ve forgotten that. This past Sunday was a phenomenal message, and I’ve thought through it many times. But, the part I want to tell you about is the Children’s Message.

So, this is a small church. There are sometimes no kids and sometimes five. (Except when you add the entire family visiting last weekend, and then there were a dozen!) This past Sunday, there were three. After some technical difficulties, a song begins to play. One you’ll recognize.

You put your right hand in….
You put your left hand in…
And shake it all about…

The kicker? Put your WHOLE SELF in. Be a Hoky Poky Christian, he teaches them. Don’t just do it half-way … Do it all the way.

My life got flipped, turned upside down when I realized that I don’t always put my whole self in, and I’m not just talking about my God stuff. Be a whole friend, a whole partner, a whole parent…. If it’s
worth doing, do it fully. Even, and maybe especially WHEN (because it will happen, if you’re still breathing), your life gets flipped, turned upside down.

(Not that he’s ever going to see this, but Will Smith – or DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince, as they were known then – thanks for letting me use your lyrics.)

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Letter To Me

March 11, 2012 in Uncategorized

I’ve been thinking for quite some time about writing a series of blogs on different songs that mean a lot to me, and Brad Paisley’s “Letter to Me” has been on the list since I had the idea.  Then the other night, I was reading through my FaceBook feed, and up pops a very dear friend’s “Letter to Me” blog!  So, at least this one is being accomplished, and maybe I’ll get to go further with the series! As he challenged me, so shall I you: If you were to write a letter to yourself, what would it look like?

Me in Preschool

Dear Young Megan,

If you’ve taken time away from the boys, basketball, and bicycle that so consume your young life, thank you.  I know that means you’ve done something for me you will barely do for anyone else. It’s me, the older you, believe it or not. I just wanted to share some tidbits with you, to maybe provide some light along the way.

Just a few words of wisdom in general:

  1. Don’t live your life like you live in a fish bowl, no matter how many times you hear it in your life in pastors’ houses.  (Yes, that’s plural. Try to relax.)
  2. The Creator doesn’t ask for perfection, so ignore others who do.  They have no idea how it will crush your very soul. (And please ALWAYS remember that the Creator DIED for your soul, which makes it VERY important to take care of you.)
  3. Hang on tight to very small precious moments, as they are what will keep you floating, especially through your 30s. (And try to remember more of them, because others get tired of reminding you. Oh, and you may want to be prepared now: your life experiences have really messed with your ability to remember things.)
  4. And yes, even with all of your daredevil stunts, you make it to your 30s.

That dog, Mac, you have as a six year old? He’s about the most amazing thing in your life at the time, so enjoy running down the hill with him at the farm.  Oh, and enjoy the farm more.  It doesn’t last too long, unfortunately, but you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you could live in a place like that again. Except, you may want to stay away from the big tire sandbox, as Mom warned you to do. Turns out, she’s right.

When you’re 8, it’s going to seem impossible, but you’re going to move for the first time. Trust me when I tell you that you’ll get used to moving pretty early on in life and that it won’t change any time into your adult years, either.

Hug your grandparents tight and often and remember all of the little things more preciously.  More specifically, remember the Andes mints in Grandma Pat’s refrigerator and the smell of Old Spice on Granddaddy’s face as he asks you, “How’s that?” after a Sunday morning shave.  Those two turn out to be pretty special pretty quickly.

You should probably write more often.  It turns out that the C you’re going to get in Handwriting in elementary school really has nothing to do at all with your ability to write and others’ enjoyment of your writing. When people constantly tell you to write more, try to listen, and stop doing what you’ve been doing most recently (blowing them off).

Don’t beat up your sisters so  much.  When you’re older, believe it or not, you’re going to need some stability in your life, and even when they’re thousands of miles away, those two “stupidheads” are going to make up a lot of your support system.

You will have a successful career, earn a few college degrees, and test at the genius level. But, at least up until this point in your life, that’s not going  to be the most important part of you. So, stop worrying so much about grades, and worry a little bit more about the people in your life. Trust me on this one; an A is not as important as hugging your dad a bit more often.

And yes, I said hug your dad. You may not believe it or now, but the older you get, the more you fall in love with that man, become so proud of him, and desire to remember some of the lessons he has taught over the years.

Listen when your mom tells you that you need to learn how to cook, wash dishes, do laundry, and not throw everything on the floor. Believe it or not, you’ll find yourself doing a LOT of that later on, and it’d be a lot easier if you didn’t have to learn it the hard way.

There are going to be a few boys in your life, and very few men. When you receive advice from others regarding these boys/men, you should REALLY listen. It would save you a lot of heart ache personally.  But, then again, it’d keep you from a few precious blessings, so maybe your stubborn-head actually knows what it’s doing at a much-too-young age. So, on second thought, forget it. Maybe you should go ahead with it anyway.

That young kid you drive to school (along with his annoying younger brother) in high school, because your younger sister is dating him? Pay more attention to him. Eventually, he shows up again. I know, right?! And believe me – you are going to have a hard time recognizing him, but he is going to see you for more than you’ve ever dared to dream you were. You’re going to be spending as much time with him as you can in the future, and sharing parts of you that up until then you’d kept only to yourself, it seems. Trust him sooner. For maybe the first time ever, you’ll have met someone worth trusting.

Keep that love for basketball. Eventually, believe it or not, you are going to have a basketball team of your own, though probably not exactly the manner in which you’re thinking right now.

Keep that softness towards the military that you have in you in middle school and beyond. Turns out, the Creator is prepping you for something pretty amazing later on.

Always do the best you can, and STOP worrying about things you can not control. You’re going to learn in a very difficult way eventually that you have no control, except for lots of praying. Get used to your knees hurting; it turns out using them to bow to the One who brought you here is a massive part of your life.

Oh, and don’t watch that Knight Rider Halloween Special the year you think you’re finally old enough to watch scary shows with the adults. Really, it will haunt you for the rest of your life.

One last thing: Maybe you shouldn’t taste the coffee when you’re 13 years old at that church meeting.  It becomes a pretty big part of your life, and it may be one of the major reasons that you’ll never be able to play Center on the basketball team. I’m just saying – think twice.

Then again, that might be the best piece of advice I can give you: Always Think Twice.

 

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When Daddy Disappears: Week 1

March 8, 2012 in Life {in?}side the Corps

For the first time in 2.5 years, Daddy has had to leave. I, personally, am more used to him being gone than home, although the past couple of years have spoiled me, for certain. On the other hand, Rhyan was just an infant barely crawling when he last returned home, so she has no memory of his extended absence. Thankfully, this is only a 7 week school, instead of a 7 month combat deployment. We only have to deal with missing him right now; not with worrying about his safety. While you’d think this makes his absence easier (because I know he is safe), that does NOT appear to be true at all.

This household has been turned upside down. We have had numerous temper tantrums (starting with the 3 year old, and ending with Mommy sobbing as she walks down the sidewalk), many sleepless nights, lots of dance parties and snuggles, very little washing of dishes (thank goodness for paper plates), and lots of hair pulling. There have been phone calls, texts, Facebook chats, and the like, from friends and family concerned about how I’m doing with Mr. Marine gone, with to kids alone 24/7, with no car. It’s been interesting and if you’ve listened at all lately, you know I may be going a bit crazy, but there have also been some amazing moments. Here are a few pictures to share our first week with you:

We’ve had about a million wonderful people step in (or maybe just a handful, but it means the world to me!). People to take our trash out, people driving miles to visit, offering to let us use their vehicles, to get something for us while they’re out, to watch the kids for an hour, and on and on. We are SO blessed, and waiting for this time to FLY BY… though it’s going to need to start doing that soon!

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Greatest Love of All

February 12, 2012 in My Ramblings


 

I don’t remember the exact year, but I remember that my elementary friends and I sang “Greatest Love of All” in some school production.  Perhaps it was my 6th grade graduation; my memories get foggy as I get older.  In the seclusion of my bedroom in our little single wide trailer, with Whitney Houston blaring loudly from the cassette tape playing in my Walkman, I would sing at the top of my lungs. My arms would flail as I imagined every great artist’s arms should, my voice would quiver, and my guinea pig would hide.  But, I belted it out. Whitney Houston was the most amazing vocalist I had ever heard in my young life; almost as revered as Sandi Patty in our house.

I’m many years older now, and it has hit me hard that this woman died at the age of 48 last night.  Yes, I’ve heard the rumors.  I’ve heard that it’s most likely a result of a drug overdose, that her life in recent years has been filled with drug abuse, and on and on.  I still remember the words to this song and have a hard time understanding that the woman with the voice of an angel that belted out, “Learning to love myself is the greatest love of all” would then do something that so endangered her life.  I’m heartbroken for those who knew and loved her most, that her life would end so shortly and tragically.

These words will forever haunt me, like other greats from my childhood. I have gone through times in my life when loving myself was the furthest thing from my mind and definitely not what drove my actions.  I have learned, specifically in the last five to seven years, how important it truly is to love oneself.  Not in a vain and conceited, “I rule the world” type of way, but in a “I was created by the Master’s hand” way, and there are many of us who struggle with it.  Even this angelic voice obviously struggled with it herself, as she participated in activities that were extremely dangerous to her health.

As I raise my children, I often find myself humming these notes, and reminding myself that the children are our future, and that TRULY – giving them a sense of pride WILL make their futures easier. Whitney went on to share, ”Let the children’s laughter remind us how we used to be,” and those words echo a scripture that I have long since held dear:  “For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said, “I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom. What’s more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it’s the same as receiving me.” (Matthew 18:2-5, The Message)

I’m not a big Hollywood fan. I don’t read much about celebrities, I rarely watch anything that would teach me about what the newest famed are up to, and I change the channel when I hear some of the bigger names in Hollywood being praised.  I’m just not “into” that scene.  But, there are glimpses of moments from my childhood in which this artist reappears, and I can’t let go of the few memories I have.  I will be forever thankful for the gift given to this young woman, the way she shared it with the masses, and challenged with her lyrics.

What are you doing with your fleeting moments?

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