about life
What keeps me going forward.
“Intuition is a spiritual faculty and does not explain, but simply points the way.” – Florence Scovel Shinn
I believe God has blessed mothers with a very special gift. Do a Google search for “Mother’s Intuition,” and you could spend days reading about this phenomenon. As Mother’s Day approaches, I got to thinking of my own experiences with Mother’s Intuition.
Continue reading “How Mother’s Intuition has deepened our bond”
16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. – 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 ESV
My sister-in-law and I have a code. Since we communicate these days mostly by texting, we know that if we get a text that reads, “Got a minute to chat?” then it is time to talk – whether on the phone or in person.
She was my one of my “battle buddies” while my husband was on an unaccompanied tour, and then a few months later, when he and our oldest son were deployed at the same time. She has listened to me rant and rave like a crazy woman and has seen me at my absolute worse – mentally, emotionally and spiritually.
“Keep the fire lit in your marriage and your life will be filled with warmth.”-Fawn Weaver
This past August, my husband and I celebrated a milestone in our lives – our 30-year wedding anniversary. Three decades! Over 10,000 days being married. I’d calculate the hours and days, but that may overwork my calculator!
Of course, our anniversary was an exciting observation for my spouse, myself, our children and our parents. I wish my dad had been here to celebrate, but I know he was smiling from heaven. I remember when I was a little girl, he stated that he would choose my husband. And when I shared with Dad that I was engaged, he was ecstatic. At the time, my soon-to-be-husband was stationed in Alaska. He proposed to me over the phone, and I received my engagement ring via UPS. I had to pry the package out of Dad’s hands, reminding him that it was addressed to me.
My husband and I met on a blind date, arranged by friends of ours, who had just met in college. Home for the Christmas break, my friend and her boyfriend described three of their friends they wanted me to meet. I chose the soldier, who was home on leave, and who was stationed 14 hours away via plane. Why? Well, should the date be a disaster, the possibility of ever running into each other again was incredibly slim.
Of course, we hit it off famously, and our story began.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Separated for nine months, we planned a wedding from afar and learned a lot about each other through letters and very expensive phone calls from the mainland to Alaska. After we were married, we lived a fairly routine military life: many moves, two children born in different states, then out of the Army and back home. Two more children entered our world, then the 9-11 terrorist attacks changed our family’s world – and back to Army life, this time as a Reserve family.
Our life together has been dotted with challenges: job losses, financial pain, military deployments, burying loved ones, disappointments.
Our life together has been amazingly blessed: Four children, the addition of our oldest children’s spouses, granddaughters, laughter – lots of laughter – strong faith, survival of the tough times, weddings, birthdays, graduations, confirmations, baptisms, seeing our children’s talents, watching them grow into amazing adults. Hands-down, we would say, “I do,” all over again.
As we got closer to our anniversary, I started reading blogs and comments about other long marriages. I wondered if there was any “secret” and if so, how did my husband and I rate among these folks. Honestly, I became depressed. The more I read, the more I witnessed pain and despair from people in long marriages, ending their lives together. Twenty, thirty, even forty years. I kept reading, trying to see why those couples fell apart, and panicked: could that happen to us?
Straight up answer – yes, it could.
Realistically, it could happen to anyone. And with the stress of a military marriage, just like the stress in any other high-adrenalin occupation – police, firefighters, etc. – a couple’s odds of marital failure are increased. Families of first responders and families of the military deal with fear of injury and death – for the most part on a daily basis. There is physical separation, missed holidays, lonely anniversaries, solo-parenting at special events – the list is endless. Additionally, these families deal with injuries, PTSD, loss of colleagues and other job-related issues.
So, my quest continued. Is there a magic formula for keeping it together? How do some marriages last, and others unravel? At some point in any relationship, there are bound to be arguments, hurt feelings, betrayal of trust, financial distress, illness and disease, and a host of other problems. So, I kept reading articles, blogs and commentaries. Some stories were so profoundly sad, and others – less in numbers – were inspiring. It seemed that there was so much negativity toward marriage, I wondered why anyone even bothered.
Recently, though, I have started to see some encouraging blog posts. One was from a man who was divorced, and he laid out a plan for other men to follow. It went viral, as he described how he hurt his spouse, and what he’d do differently. Another recent post was a young man whose father gave him advice – basically, that by treating your spouse well, your spouse will reciprocate. In a nutshell, treat others as to how you want to be treated – age-old advice that is true in any circumstance.
Out of all my research and reading, I did not find any one particular piece of advice for sustaining a long-term marriage. From what I gathered, mutual respect, trust, love and forgiveness were some of the key components. Noteworthy were the articles and books about how men and women think and view the world in different ways, and many times not understanding our differences makes for difficult times. I think that respecting each other and our differences goes a long way in better communication – another key ingredient to strengthening our vows. And from a few folks in the medical community, the need to understand, acknowledge and support the physical and emotional changes men and women go through during their lives, especially mid-life, is another critical area of focus. And, of course, supporting each other’s dreams, careers and ambitions help bolster the couple.
As a military spouse, our families are subject to frequent separations due to training, temporary duty assignments and deployments. In fact, in the past eight years, my husband and I have spent four wedding anniversaries apart. Service members leave home, and the spouses are left behind to keep the home fires burning. Whenever I hear this phrase, I picture a pioneer woman, literally keeping the fire burning – handling her role as well as her spouse’s. It brought to mind a metaphor, and I believe, it sparked an a-ha moment – a frequent occurrence lately for this mid-life writer…
Marriage is like a fire. It starts out as a spark, and as the flame grows, it becomes hot and, sometimes, unpredictable. Once it settles down a bit, it becomes “perfect.” The heat begins to level off, and the fire is soothingly warm and comfortable – somewhat predictable. However, it still needs to be tended. Add a log or two, and it will keep burning. By becoming complacent, and carelessly letting it burn down too far, there is danger of the fire going out. However, even if there is just a little heat, the embers, which are cooling down, can be regenerated. It isn’t too late to save. Stoke it, add a little oxygen, then add another log, and the fire will return. It may need some prodding, but with patience and time, the flames will grow. Is it easy? Not at all. One can easily forget to toss a log on the fire when busy and away from the fireplace. It can become a hassle to keep the fire burning, but if it isn’t attended, the fire, at some point, will die out.
It isn’t easy to be the tender of the fire. It takes time, and sometimes there is only one person to keep it going. But, when it is well-tended, the rewards are amazing. There is warmth, comfort and light. There is satisfaction of keeping it going, even through the difficulties and the moments that it seemed impossible.
And, ultimately, there is joy in sharing something so very precious, so very life-sustaining, so very comforting.
Do you have any thoughts on how to keep a marriage strong? Any favorite metaphors? Feel free to leave a comment.
© Lynne Cobb – 2014
per·fect – adjective -ˈpərfikt/
1. having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be.
My morning routine includes watching the news headlines before I head out the door. This morning, Christmas Eve, was no different. I want the headlines – not the fluff – and have done my best to tune out the idle banter when the anchors drone on and chit-chat. However, when I heard this phrase again today, I reached my proverbial breaking point.
How to have the “perfect” Christmas. Ugh!
No, I am not a Grinch or a Scrooge, but I am tired and weary of the media and advertisers dangling a dream that can’t be achieved in front of our faces. There is no perfect Christmas, because there are no perfect people.
It really is just that simple.
People, women in particular, spend time, energy and money chasing that perfect scene. The perfect gift, the perfect baked goods, the perfect tree, the perfect decorations, the perfect outfit, the perfect hair. How much valuable time and money is wasted on achieving perfectionism? I mean really good, quality time, with laughter and memory making – are these lost among the strive for perfection?
When did everything have to be perfect? Not just holidays – but everything in general? What we do, where we live, what we say, what we believe. The truth is, we are flawed, and no matter how much we try, we cannot achieve perfection. That doesn’t mean we should be arrogant jerks, but instead of trying to be perfect, why aren’t we trying to be kind, compassionate and caring? Instead of worrying about appearances, maybe we should worry about how we act towards our fellow man.
Christmas has become a “make or break” holiday. When it doesn’t live up to our perfect expectation, it depresses us. We miss loved ones – gone due to deployments, distance, divorces and death. I understand that part of the holiday all too well. And, for me, I feel that pain whether it is Christmas or Independence Day. But we have become so fixated on the Hollywood version of Christmas, that we have lost the sense of the celebration. If our celebration doesn’t look like one we see on television, then we are doing it all wrong.
Earlier in the week, I kept thinking that it “didn’t feel like Christmas.” I kept wondering why? Am I jaded? Getting older and wiser? Feeling pressured to “feel like it’s Christmas?” I am pretty sure I wasn’t the only person feeling this way.
Christmas is when we observe Christ’s birth. Yes, we can debate the pagan roots of decorations, the actual time of His birth, but, since we do not know the particulars, for all intents and purposes, this is the day Christians world-wide celebrate our Savior’s entry into the world. It is our holy day.
There was nothing perfect about Jesus’ birthday – born in a stable, sleeping in hay. Humble, rustic and for germ-o-phobes, pretty dirty. But here, in the midst of an imperfect world, in an imperfect setting, to imperfect people, there was a moment of perfection – Jesus was born, and He would shoulder our imperfections.
He didn’t come into our world so we would stress about His birthday.
Maybe, as adults, we don’t feel that holiday spirit because we are so wrapped up in making things perfect. Children approach Christmas with sheer joy and anticipation. They aren’t seeking perfection. They are filled with wonder and awe.
My wish for you is to see Christmas as a child. Enjoy the wonder and awe of this Perfect Gift. May you find joy in giving forgiveness, in sharing of yourself and your talents, and in making your area of the world better and brighter for others.
Wishing you a joyful Christmas!
© Lynne Cobb – 2013
You probably don’t know this, but you almost took me out this afternoon. Your passenger-side mirror was one inch from my driver-side mirror. Yes, I was in my own lane. You, my dear, were not.
I understand that sometimes we drift, and get it back together after a near-miss. Sometimes an animal runs across the road, and we react to avoid hitting it. Or a driver in the opposite direction looks like they may hit us head-on. So, yes, I understand all that, and I am forgiving.
However, young lady, none of that played out. And you wouldn’t know, because your eyes were gazing at your lap, because that was where your phone was perched.
You almost caused an accident today because you were texting. And you don’t even know it.
I dropped my speed down, as I would rather see what you were up to, and avoid any mess you may create. I watched you weave all over your lane. Then you made an illegal turn, and cut someone off, because you were not paying attention. I prayed for the others on the road who would cross your path. And I gave a prayer of thanks that you were no longer an immediate threat to me.
Honestly, I don’t really care what your reasons were for texting and driving. I don’t care if you had a fight with your boyfriend, or your BFF went into labor or your wedding dress didn’t arrive on time. I don’t care if your kid puked at day care or your mom was rushed to the hospital. There is absolutely no good excuse for you to text and drive. And, if you were just coordinating lunch plans, then I admonish you even more. You always have the option to pull over into a parking lot and converse. You do not have the option to text and drive.
You see, there is nothing so dang important going on in your world that you have to take me out of mine. I want to eat dinner with my family. I want to hear my daughter sing at her next concert. I want to go to dinner with my husband and watch my granddaughters play.
Young lady, you may think you know how to text and drive, because it is part of your daily routine. I, as a witness, can tell you this: You can’t text and drive. Really, you can’t. I watched you. It is only because other drivers are paying attention that you have been successful to this point. You had no idea what was happening on the road. You had no reaction time. Oh – and here’s a newsflash – it is against the law to text and drive. But I am sure you know that. You are above the law, because, well, you think you have this skill mastered.
You are young, but you are not invincible, as many in your age group believe. My mid-life wisdom has taught me just how precious each day – and life – is. And, your life is precious, too. Don’t you want to live a little longer?
You are the reason I am apprehensive each time I get behind the wheel. You are the reason I am afraid to let my daughter take the wheel as she learns to drive. You are the reason I tell everyone “be careful” as they head out the door.
Thankfully, I am okay – just angry and a little shaken up over the incident. I will get over it, and I have already forgiven you for scaring me on the road this afternoon. I made it home safely, and I thank God for that.
But, would you please listen? And share with your friends? You can not text and drive. Period. You may think you can, but eventually, you will have to stop. And, most likely you will stop because you will learn a very hard lesson as to why you can’t text and drive. When you eventually plow into another car, and yes, that will happen, I just pray that you don’t kill someone.
Honestly, angry as I am, I really don’t want you to have to pay a tragic price for your stupidity. And the rest of us on the road, well, we really don’t want to be victims of your recklessness.
Have you had enough of people texting and driving? Let me know in the comments below.
© Lynne Cobb – 2013
Update: This post was featured on Midlife Boulevard on Dec. 18, 2013!
Given the current climate of our country, and our world, anxiety seems pretty high these days. I know I am not alone. For me, I can toss in mid-life adjustments, family circumstances and an insanely busy schedule to the big bowl of life, and mixing it all together, I can attest that I am feeling a bit on-edge and hyper; simply put – anxious.
Add another ingredient of life into the mixing bowl – my dad passed away a little over two years ago. I still miss him. He was my “go-to” guy when I felt anxious. He didn’t always try to fix things; most of the time he just listened.
The father-daughter bond we shared was very strong, and even though I can’t physically see or hear him, I think of him daily, and I believe he communicates in his own special way.
For instance, a few hours before my dad passed away, we experienced an early evening, mid-summer storm. Strong winds, thunder, lightening – the works. A vibrant and a most beautiful rainbow appeared shortly after the storm… and a rainbow occurred monthly at the same time – the 23rd day of each month – for several months after his death. Anyone who has lost someone so dear marks the monthly anniversary until it becomes a yearly observation. (Oh, this was amazing, too – a rainbow appeared on the first Father’s Day we celebrated without him.)
I will be going about my day, thinking of Dad, and then, one of his favorite songs will be on the radio, or one of his favorite hymns will be listed in the church bulletin. During times of incredible stress, I have seen Dad in my dreams. He says nothing, but has the most peaceful smile and always gives me a hug.
It is all too vivid and the timing is way too perfect to be called a coincidence.
When fall rolls around, I think of him constantly. Anyone who knew my dad also knew he had an immaculate yard, and during the fall, he declared a full-on attack of leaves. Yes, this is the man who would stop mid-conversation to go outside and grab a leaf off the front lawn. And yes, this is the same man who “slid” off the roof and broke his leaf blower because, yes, he was on the roof, ridding it of leaves, so that they wouldn’t land in the yard.
During Dad’s eulogy, our pastor shared these stories to all who came to celebrate his life. There was so much laughter. Seriously, who gets on the roof and, essentially, rakes it? One year, my siblings and our spouses wanted to bring bags of leaves and dump them all over the yard as a prank, so that when Dad grabbed his morning paper, he would be greeted with 3-4 inches of leaves covering every blade of grass. We didn’t, because, well, we knew that could have caused a major health event. We didn’t want to bear that burden the rest of our lives!
When we interred Dad’s ashes in a memorial garden at church, there was a hush of quiet as our immediate family gathered. It was a pretty fall day, and the earlier rain had subsided in the nick of time. Pastor was reading some Scripture, and said a prayer, and then there was a quiet murmur, which turned to some mild snickering… because in the spot where Dad’s remains would eternally rest, in that just-opened space in the memorial wall, what does our pastor find? A leaf. He wondered if we should remove it, or leave it there to drive dad crazy for all eternity.
See what I mean? I swear he sends us messages from beyond.
Well, I have really needed my dad these past few weeks. What I wouldn’t have given to just talk to him, which I still do. I guess what I really wanted was to hear his voice.
This past Sunday, after worship, my youngest daughter and I took a stroll through another garden at church. It was a nice walk, and we had just heard our pastor’s sermon about angels. The garden, still sporting some roses in the early fall, was peaceful and pretty, with a calming fountain and lots of stones with Scripture verses along the path. Halfway through our walk, one stone stood out to me because, of all things, there was a leaf laying on it. One, lone leaf, which, of course, caught my eye. Any time I see a random leaf, I can’t help to think of dear old dad.
Oh my gosh…I had to grab my phone and snap a photo, because I honestly could not believe my eyes! Straight from heaven – a message from dad!
Right under the leaf, the Scripture verse read: “Do not be anxious about anything.” Philippians 4:6.
Teary-eyed, and a little shaken, I looked up, and whispered, “Thanks, Dad.”
© Lynne Cobb – 2013>
Let me know if you have received a message from heaven!
Where were you when the world stopped turning? – Alan Jackson
September 11, 2001. We all remember where we were, what we were doing, and how the world became a scarier place. We watched in horror as innocent men, women and children died a horrific death. We watched in horror as first responders died trying to save lives. We cried for people we didn’t know. We cried tears of joy when a victim was pulled alive from the wreckage.
September 12, 2001, was a different day. Churches were open, people were praying, flags were raised, blood was donated and people from across the country headed to the East Coast to help. Military recruiters saw people lining up to defend our great nation. A great sense of community joined us all together.
We were like one family.
My Army husband, who was no longer on active duty, was restless. His colleagues were fighting in the War on Terror. I knew that his patriotism and military skills were needed, and I also knew that at some point, we would discuss his future military service – a decision that would be difficult to make. Should he re-up? If it kept our sons, our nephews and our friends’ sons from having to go, then yes.
Our decision was wrought with anguish. It certainly wasn’t easy. It was like putting my spouse into the line of fire. But he, being a man of character, strong faith, and a true soldier – selfless to the core – we took a leap of faith.
Without a doubt, September 11, 2001 changed me. It changed our family. It changed our country. Some of the changes in me are good – some, not so much. As I reflect the anniversary, remembering where I was, and who I was then, I will share the Top Seven Ways 9-11-01 changed me – for better and for worse.
1 – Lack of patience: When someone complains that their spouse will be gone a few days, I bite my tongue. I want to shout, “Try six weeks, six months, eight months or fifteen months at a time.” For a lot of families, you can multiply that separation by way more than one deployment in ten years. Admittedly, my lack of patience isn’t fair to others. And, truthfully, I’d rather hear someone complain about missing their spouse than have them doing a happy dance that their spouse is away. But what I realize, is that because of 9-11, my patience level isn’t always where it needs to be, and I am working on that. And it isn’t just this instance. My lack of patience with people being rude and obnoxious is evident. A flaw in my character. So, my lack of patience in others and in their complaining is truly the worst change in me since that awful day.
2 – Putting myself in other’s shoes: I find that I can be more empathetic now than I was before. Not all days, but most, I try my hardest not to judge. The other day, a clerk shorted me $10 in change. I was annoyed that I had to wait while they counted the drawer to make sure I wasn’t scamming. But I also tried to remember that mistakes happen – it wasn’t personal. I also wondered what hardships she was facing. Did she have a son or daughter deploying? An elderly parent to care for? An electric bill that couldn’t be paid? So, one good thing that 9-11 has taught me is to slow my quick tongue, and think before I speak, because I don’t know what burden the next person is carrying. And yes, I am trying really hard to remember that while driving…kind of goes hand-in-hand with that patience flaw I am working on…
3 – Value of time: Military families treasure time above anything else. So, when we see others bicker and complain over their loved ones, it really hurts. Sure, you may not want to pick up a pair of your hubby’s dirty boxers or your mom just may be a witch for grounding you. But there is a spouse out there somewhere who longs to grab dirty socks off the floor. And a teenager missing their parent, even if the parent was “being mean.” Some military families count down the days until a reunion…others aren’t so lucky, as they have faced a hero’s devastating injury or a death. Be kind to your loved ones – let them know you love them. Another good thing from 9-11 is that I learned how valuable time is, even if it sounds corny. Seconds count, as they turn into minutes, hours and days.
4 – Appreciating “geeks” who make our communication possible: Technology, used properly, has been one of the greatest gifts to military families. The ability to video chat, make phone calls, email, etc., has been a Godsend. Honestly, I don’t know how my military spouse predecessors coped, as it took so very long to get a letter from their husbands, fathers and sons. Just 10-12 years ago, we were running our Internet signal off a phone line. Now, our smartphones keep us connected. Holidays, birthdays, special events, even births can all be shared via video feed. What a blessing, what a change, for military families still serving due to 9-11.
5 – Appreciating all service families. It isn’t just the military and their families who deserve a shout-out. It is also our police, fire and other first responders – and their families. Each day, there are parents, spouses and children that send their loved ones out the door to serve and protect us in our daily lives. Those families are on the same emotional roller-coaster that military families ride. Sadly, it took 9-11 for me to really appreciate what others in our community do to keep us safe. So as much as I appreciate being thanked for my service as an Army wife and an Air Force mom, when I can, I thank our first responders and the families who love, worry and support them.
6 – Flags. Yes, you bet the flag flies proudly here. There is also the addition of a Blue Star service flag, bearing two stars. If, thirty years ago, someone would have told me, a new military spouse at the time, that I’d be presented one of these flags, I wouldn’t have believed them. In fact, I didn’t even know what a Blue Star service flag was back then. Because of 9-11, I have come to love the U.S. flag and what it represents more than I thought I ever would, because I truly understand the cost and sacrifice for freedom.
7 – Faith. Sure, it may sound cliché. But when your spouse or child is in harm’s way, you realize that you truly do not have control. Faith isn’t found just in foxholes, it is found at the kitchen table, tucking the children into bed, in holding hands in prayer, or in the embrace of a caring friend. Knowing that people pray for my family and for me is such a tremendous comfort. Faith brings hope. The biggest – and best – change in me since 9-11 has been my personal walk in faith.
So yes, some good changes, some new appreciations and most definitely an area (or two) of personal growth to work on. If we can take anything away from a tragic event, I hope it is change – good change, so that we become better people – to ourselves, our family and to strangers.
© Lynne Cobb – 2013
How has tragedy changed you? Feel free to share your story in the comment section.
“No one really wants to admit they are lonely, and it is never really addressed very much between friends and family. But I have felt lonely many times in my life.” – Bill Murray
Sitting in church on Sunday, our pastor’s sermon theme reflected on friendship. Though he interjected some humor with thought-provoking questions, his message really hit home. I am sure many of us squirmed, knowing full well that we all can, should and could be better friends.
He touched on something that really resonated with me, and that was loneliness, and what it really felt like. If you have ever experienced loneliness, and I am talking gut-wrenching, deep-in-the-pit loneliness, you could relate. When you are hurting, you don’t want to be forgotten.
Most of us think of loneliness when we hear of someone passing away. Loneliness is part of the grief experience. But it isn’t always death that makes one feel alone. Any traumatic experience – like a cancer diagnosis, a divorce, a job loss, addiction, losing a home – can lead to feelings of loss and grief.
Because I am a military spouse and mom, I know how very lonely it can be when your loved one is not home. Basic training, TDYs, far-off duty stations and deployments can cause grief: separation anxiety, lack of communication, missing your loved one. You grieve for the life you had before they left. You grieve for normalcy. At times, people avoid service members’ families for fear of making them – or seeing them – cry. Similar to how people react to a death.
And honestly, that is isn’t too far off the mark as to how we respond, in general, when others journey through difficult times. We don’t know what to say or do, often afraid we will make things worse.
Back in the late 1960s, Elizabeth Kubler Ross introduced a hypothesis for the five stages of grief. Some pooh-poohed her idea, and others embraced it. When my dad died, I can say I went through the stages, though not in any particular order. I stumbled upon some notes regarding those stages recently, and it was like I had an “ah-ha” moment. The stages of grief are similar to the feelings many military families go through when those deployment warning orders start filtering down the chain of command:
I’ve been asked before how one can really help military families – you know, “to support those who support those who serve.” As a well-season military spouse and mom, I have some suggestions listed below for those who have a friend, neighbor, co-worker, church member or relative facing or living through a deployment. But really, these can be used for anyone in need:
Certainly, we have all the technology we can handle to stay in touch, but as connected as we are, there is a huge disconnect in interpersonal relationships and human touch. We rely so heavily on texts, posts and tweets, that we feel we have done our duty to connect. And while electronics are good to get the dialogue going, I think we’re really missing out if we don’t get out of our comfort zone and help wipe some tears, hand someone a box of tissues, give them a big a hug or sit and hold their hand. Something as simple as sharing a big slice of chocolate cake, or a bowl of body-and-soul-warming soup can do wonders for someone who’s lonely and scared. They will know they aren’t alone.
From someone who supports someone who serves, I can tell you, it will be appreciated. Greatly appreciated.
“Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.” – Vera Nazarian
Would you be interested in seeing more blog posts on how to support military families? Feel free to let me know in the comments section.
© Lynne Cobb – 2013
“Behind every strong soldier, there is an even stronger woman who stands behind him, supports him, and loves him with all her heart.” – Unknown
Last night, two days out from Independence Day, I was cursing the firecrackers that some ignorant individual was setting off just moments before midnight.
I stayed up too late, and I was getting tired, and also becoming a little cranky. As the firecrackers echoed with an incredibly loud bang, I consoled my poor dog, who, most days, is the essence of male bravado. Since his adoption into our family while my husband served in Iraq, our rescued mutt has taken the role of protecting his family very seriously. But he is not a fan of firecrackers.
Of course, the lighting of mortars and explosion of lights across the night sky on the Fourth of July is an All-American tradition, along with the parades, barbeques and retail sales. I love this holiday, and I love seeing the showing of the red, white and blue from what people wear, to decorations in homes and in their businesses. I love seeing the flag on display and the feeling of unity among neighbors and strangers.
It always makes me more proud of our service members and first-responders – many who will not have the opportunity to celebrate this day of independence, because they are keeping our nation and neighborhoods safe.
I woke up groggy, and typical of my morning routine, I sipped some super-strong coffee as I read my email, and then jumped over to Facebook. Of course, most moderators in the social media world were asking the same question: What are you doing for the Fourth? And most responses were typical: Having a cookout with family; seeing the fireworks; traveling to the beach.
One comment from a military spouse felt like a punch to my gut. In essence, she said, “Nothing. Fireworks remind my husband of the mortars when he was in Iraq, so we don’t do them any more.”
Looking at the clock, I logged off Facebook and got ready for the day. But her words hit me, and with each loud sound I have heard today, I was reminded by what she said. The sheer irony has laid on my heart all day. This soldier, who bravely fought for freedom and independence, suffers from the noise of the celebration of independence. This military spouse will spend her evening caring for her soldier, because she knows he needs her.
It is true that the service members have tough jobs and many times are in imminent danger. But military spouses have a very tough job, too.
We manage the home and the family on our own. Most of us have experienced more than one “deployment disaster,” such as a pipe bursting or all appliances conking out at once, or, in my case, a skunk spraying the entire exterior of the house. We deal with payday screw-ups and sketchy information. Most of us are blessed when our service member returns healthy and whole. But there are many spouses who become a care-giver for a host of injuries, health, or mental health issues.
Military spouses don’t wear a uniform. We don’t stand out in a crowd, unless we are next to our uniformed service member. We celebrate holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries alone, trying to keep the days normal for the family. We attend weddings and funerals and dance recitals and school plays solo, but when appropriate, we are taking video and photos to share across the miles. We Google videos on how to tie our son’s ties for senior pictures. We pay the bills and handle the work of two. We stop what we are doing to look at our phones, and will answer any text or call from our spouse at any time – day or night. We worry – though we know we shouldn’t. We pray and send care packages and create countdown calendars. This is what it’s like – a day in the life of a military wife.
Last week, I attended a conference in Chicago, and afterward enjoyed an afternoon at Navy Pier. I was surprised to see a USO there, and I took the opportunity to share this great service with my 15-year-old daughter. Inside the USO, I explained to her that this respite service is manned by volunteers. Anywhere there is a USO, her dad and brother can stop in for a rest, a cup of coffee, or to check email. Most of the time, you’ll find a USO in an airport. And, as a military dependent, she can use a USO as well.
As we left, I thanked the volunteers, and threw a donation into the jar. One of the volunteers said, “Thank you for your service.” I replied, “No, I am not a service member. Just a military spouse.”
“Like I said, thank you for your service. You serve, because he serves.”
I will admit that I teared up. I thanked him, and was truly appreciative. Yes, I do serve. All military spouses serve.
So, to the military spouses out there who are holding their service member’s hand a little tighter during the noise of the Fourth, thank you. For all the spouses out there, who won’t be celebrating together as a family, thank you. For those of you who are together between deployments – thank you. Enjoy that precious time together.
Thank you for serving.
How will you celebrate the Fourth of July holiday?
© 2013 – Lynne Cobb
“Anytime you suffer a setback or disappointment, put your head down and plow ahead.” – Les Brown
This past Monday was a day of disappointing news.
I won’t say it was a day of bad news. But on a day that the sky was dark and cloudy, when the wind was cold and biting; when the strain of winter’s dreariness begins to take a toll on one’s soul, it was a day ripe with hopes of good news to brighten the gloom felt both inside and out.
That just didn’t happen.
In the early afternoon, I received a text from my youngest daughter. She didn’t make the cut for an advanced choir for which she auditioned. She studied. She practiced. She prayed. We prayed. Her name didn’t make the list, and she was crushed. I was crushed for her as well.
“Can you come get me?”
Normally I would say “no,” but I knew she needed the comfort of her mom’s embrace and a private moment to console herself. So I called and excused her from class and went to retrieve her from the school. My temptation to stop and buy for her the biggest chocolate bar I could find gave way to the mom in me trying to reinforce good habits, and I didn’t want to send the wrong message of burying disappointments in food. A good cry, a big hug and some carefully, prayerfully considered words of comfort would be given, along with the space needed to examine the disappointment and to make a plan to move ahead.
She had the biggest, saddest look in her soft, beautiful brown eyes. A look of maturity with the hurt of a toddler. It killed me to look at her. I, too, began to cry.
“You have a beautiful voice, and it is truly a gift from God,” I told her. “Don’t let this disappointment get you down. He has great plans for you, and as hard as this is, trust that He will bring you through this and place you where He needs you to be.”
We chatted a bit more, cried a bit more, and then I left her alone, though I didn’t want to leave her side. A few moments to lick her wounds and cry into her pillow would be good therapy, and I continued on with the tasks of my day, tackling the to-do list as I checked on her throughout the rest of the afternoon.
Not too long afterwards, the dogs began barking at someone who was knocking at the door. On the other side were two of my daughter’s friends, bearing bags of snacks: her favorite chips, her favorite candy and a pizza-making kit. They brought all of her favorites, plus the love and compassion of friends who knew she needed them. My eyes began to well up at the love these young ladies showed their heart-broken friend.
I heard sniffles and giggles as they prepared the pizza, and squeals of laughter as the therapy worked – much better than a chocolate bar from mom. For a few hours, my daughter’s friends kept their pal company, had her laughing, and cast a ray of sunshine on a gloomy day.
During the time the girls were visiting, I received my own share of very disappointing news; where I was praying for outcomes that were completely different and unexpected from the ones I received. It was now my turn to cry, and to reach out to one of my friends for solace and comfort. It was also my turn take the words of wisdom I gave to my daughter, and apply them to my own circumstances. That, truly, was not easy, as I asked God “Why? Can’t I catch a break?”
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV).
I believe God places friends in our lives to prop us up when we have a hard time believing that the disappointments we encounter can be used for the greater good in our lives – or for others.
We may never know why we are dealing with the disappointments that we have been given, but with faith and the love and support of our friends, we will survive – and grow stronger from the setbacks we encounter along our paths.
How have you helped your child/children through a major disappointment? Share in the comment section below.
© 2013 – Lynne Cobb
