Supporting those who support those who serve

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“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:

  • Denial (Oh, this won’t happen. He is needed at his base more than over there.)
  • Anger (Mad at the command, mad at the violent world we live in, mad at the dog, mad the account won’t balance. Mad! Mad! Mad!)
  • Bargaining (God, if you keep my service member home, I will ___________ [fill in the blank].)
  • Depression (Some days, you just want to pull the covers over your head and sleep until your loved one returns.)
  • Acceptance (This really is happening, and with God’s help, I will survive it.)

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:

  • Be there. When my husband left for a deployment, my sister-in-law showed up at our house within minutes of his departure. Kids, coffee, and tears. I don’t even know if I talked. But she held my hand while I cried.
  • Bring a meal. My mother is the best. She either a brought a complete meal or invited us over. What a relief to not have to worry about feeding the kids. What a relief to not have to eat alone if the kids are not home.
  • Texts are great, but there is nothing better than hearing a voice at the other end of the line.
  • Invite the spouse, parent or family for coffee, ice cream, or just for a visit. Evenings, weekends and holidays are the worst times for feeling lonely, as that’s when most families gather and interact.
  • Drop off or mail a care package to the family. Maybe a box with some movies, popcorn and candy; a cookie bouquet half-way through the deployment; a flower arrangement on an anniversary or birthday; a balloon bouquet on a child’s birthday; fresh-baked cookies…let your imagination run wild!
  • Offer to help – from childcare to errand running to household/yard chores. A military spouse is pulling double duty.
  • Don’t say,”If you need me call.” Just call – they do need you.
  • Don’t be afraid. You will see tears. I guarantee it. Consider it an honor that your friend can comfortably cry in front of you.

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

No power? No problem!

“Disclosure: I am participating in the Verizon Boomer Voices program and have been provided with a wireless device and six months of service in exchange for my honest opinions about the product.”

A few weeks ago, my husband and I headed out to meet some friends for dinner at a nearby restaurant. The sky was stormy-looking, and it had just started to rain. We both commented that had we grilled, like we originally planned, our burgers would be a tad bit soggy. A few moments later, we could see the lightning putting on a great show, as the rain came down in torrents. There were a few good, strong wind gusts, and by the time we got to the restaurant, the skies were clearing.

But the damage was done. We were about two miles from home, trying to enjoy the time with our friends, and all of our phones were buzzing with texts from the kids at home and at work.

“We don’t have power,” and, “Did we really lose power at home?”

Great! We really did pick a good night to go out to dinner! Sometimes our timing is good! We ate and drank in air-conditioned comfort, and our dinner companion’s received the good news that their power came back on. Our teens were at work, so we didn’t get any further updates on our power outage.

But…we did get texts from the kids telling us not to take certain roads home because of downed lines and trees.

Wow – the storm was that bad? Oh yes – and then some. Trees and power lines littered our neighborhood – uprooted, landing on roofs, blocking major roads and knocking out power. The storm, quick as it was, packed quite a punch.

The power was not on by the time we got home.

tree down     damaged fence

Our neighbor’s tree fell in the back of her yard, crushing the cyclone fence that divides our property, and narrowly missing another neighbors’ brand new garage. Whew. But, what we weren’t expecting was that same tree would pull the electrical lines from our house.

broken riser  riser post

The weekend we had planned just took a complete, 180-degree change. And that’s when my Motorola Droid Razr Maxx HD proved its worthiness.

First and foremost, the phone call-quality is top-notch. That was proved when I started making calls to the utility company. Then to the fire department, which deemed our house un-safe, which prompted a call to the insurance company, which prompted more calls to several area hotels, because we weren’t the only ones who sustained damage and in need of a safe haven. Oh yes, then a call to an electrician. On and on and on.

Thank goodness I had added the flashlight app to this phone! During our #VZWVoices #Boomer training in Chicago, one of my fellow bloggers was raving about her flashlight app. I am so glad I listened! We were able to find all the lanterns, candles and flashlights using this great feature.

Let’s not forget the awesome camera that I used to capture a zillion photos from all angles. The pictures could be directly uploaded from my phone to our insurance company – using their mobile app – which I had downloaded a while back! Additionally, any receipts could be photographed and uploaded for the claim.

As we waited for news on the lines being fixed and power being restored, I installed the DTE app to track progress and report additional problems. (Kudos to DTE, as their app features a flashlight, too!) And, of course, I just had to check email and Facebook and Twitter. Plus, I used the mobile hot-spot feature so that my husband could use his laptop.

But wait? Didn’t I say we had no power? I did. That’s why this phone was a God-send. In the 70 hours we had no power, I charged my phone once, while we were at the hotel! The extended battery life on this device made using all the apps, hot-spotting, phone calls and more totally do-able. It made navigating the power outage so much easier.

The only thing it couldn’t do was make a great espresso. And my soldier used his Army survival skills to conquer that problem. Which I captured with my phone…

espresso

How has technology made your life easier? Share in the comments below!

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

A Day in the Life of a Military Wife

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“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

Graduation thoughts – decades later…

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“Keep in mind that neither success nor failure is ever final.” – Roger Babson

So today, June 13, is the 33rd anniversary of my graduation from high school. Wow. I know, I know… I just dated myself…

Maybe I am nostalgic because my third child graduated last month, and baby number four will graduate in two years. Maybe I am nostalgic because my granddaughter graduated kindergarten on the same day of my graduation anniversary. Maybe it’s hormones. But today truly has been a day of reflection.

First, how on earth did 33 years fly by so quickly? I haven’t done half of what I had planned to accomplish on that sunny day back in 1980. My plans were to head to college and become an accountant. Fame and fortune and a corner office downtown were waiting. Those plans changed quickly when I bombed pre-calculus and realized I didn’t love accounting enough to waste the time on trying to pass the class a second time around – on my dime. (Yes, I am one of those rare breeds that paid for my schooling.) So when I saw that the accountant gig wasn’t going to pan out, I fell back on to my childhood dream of being writer, and I was going to be the next, best reporter. Ever.

But then, marriage and four kids came along, and I never finished that journalism degree. In hindsight, maybe that was good, as print journalism took a nose dive. The military life had us moving around, and by the time we finally settled back home and my brood started to enter school, I had left the world of newspaper advertising and began freelance writing for local and daily papers and magazines. It was a wonderful balance.

I married a great guy – my soldier, a true hero – and we have four great kids of our own, and two recent additions – our son-in-law and daughter-in-law. We have two beautiful granddaughters. We receive wonderful accolades on our children – better than a Pulitzer or a byline in a newspaper.

The gal with the diploma didn’t have a clue that she’d meet her husband on a blind date, become a military wife, a mom times four, a military mom or a struggling writer. She didn’t know she’d live in Hawaii or visit other areas of the world. She didn’t know the joy and pain of being a parent; how hard it would be to watch her children struggle, face disappointments or to send a son off to basic training; she also had no clue as to how it would feel to have her husband and son deployed back-to-back in a war zone. She didn’t know she’d watch her dad succumb to the ravages of the worst disease ever – Alzheimer’s.

She didn’t know that she’d realize what her faith meant to her, and that she’d echo the same sentiment as her dad – that the only thing that really mattered was that her children came to know Christ. She didn’t realize what her mother went through, until she, herself, faced similar life situations and drew on the strength of her insanely strong mom.

That very shy graduate, the one who rarely opened her mouth back in the day, couldn’t possibly have known that one day, she’d have op-eds published in two Detroit dailies. That she’d defend her babies and march right into the school on two occasions, confronting teachers that bullied her daughters. That, paid or not, she’d keep her dream of writing alive. That she could face her fears and shyness and actually perform a few skits on a stage. In front of large crowds. That above all, God, family and love would be the priorities in her life.

She couldn’t have known that her fellow graduates would also face life struggles: divorces, deaths, job losses – and that they’d find fellowship in supporting each other as they grew older. That the smaller, more intimate gatherings weren’t to see who was the most successful, but to support each other and cheer them on – during the good times and the bad.

When I think back to the 18-year-old girl grasping the diploma, I wonder – did I disappoint her? I didn’t become the bang-whiz accountant or the ace reporter – that’s for sure. But, what I didn’t achieve for her career-wise, I sure think I made up for in other ways. She has a Master’s in the school of hard-knocks, which went a long way in developing her character. You see, that young kid is pretty damned content with how it has all turned out, and she learned that true success is measured in love.

And by that measurement, she knows that she has been repeatedly and abundantly blessed.

Do you ever reflect on your high school graduation? Let me know in the comments below.

© 2013 – Lynne Cobb

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