The Friendships We Forge

A direct result of the unique challenges of military life is the incredible friendships that emerge. As a result of being displaced from family, the military community becomes a soft place to fall. Each time we move, we are greeted by complete strangers who will quickly become an extension of family. Before they know our children’s names, they will offer to help us house hunt, unpack, and babysit our kids while we try to make some sort of sense of our new ‘home.’ And we will take them up on it.

As a military family, we have learned to not only be resilient and flexible, but to jump into friendships head first, without looking back. We don’t have time to let our relationships bloom over time organically. Instead, we must put ourselves out there, bearing who we are at the core from the beginning. We ask for favors normally reserved for family – rides to the airport, dog sitting, overnight babysitting, emergency middle of the night calls... you get the idea.

It is a unique benefit of this unsteady and unpredictable lifestyle – lifelong friendships forged in a matter of months, and forever held sacred. A unique bond and understanding between people who need each other when life becomes uncertain. It is the single benefit my grandmothers most fondly look back on, when reminiscing about their own military experience.

And along with that benefit, is the inevitable painful goodbye we’ll face when it’s time to move on to the next place. This summer, we’ll say goodbye to several of the families that have made Rome, New York bearable. Even enjoyable. They are the reason we’ll look back at this chapter with such fond memories. The people we shared homes with, laughed until we cried with, leaned on in times of hardship, and grew with over a couple of short years.

In particular, this week, we say goodbye to the family with whom we spent many evenings tucking our kids into bed together, then sitting around the kitchen table, chatting, sipping wine, and playing games into the wee hours of the morning.

This will mark the first time I need to explain to Jackson why he won’t see his best friends anymore, and as I try to justify this to him, I’ll be once again, justifying it to myself.

Saying goodbye never gets easier, but I move forward grateful to have these memories, to have met these people. The most worthwhile things are never easy. Forever grateful for the friendships we forge.  

I’d Chose You Every Time

Today, we celebrate 7, count them – SEVEN years of marriage. That’s more than most celebrity couples, not that that’s the standard I’m holding our relationship to, or anything.

We had the benefit of moving to a far away land mere days after we said ‘I Do,’ leaving us to figure out the whole living together, being married, being far away from home thing on our own. We were forced to lean on each other – and only each other – when things got confusing and overwhelming, and tough.

We navigated strange habits, A-type demands, and cooking for two entirely on our own. And we grew. We grew together, and we grew into a marriage with a solid foundation and open communication.

We learned how important it is to say “I’m sorry” and “You’re right.” How important it is to not just say “I love you,” but to show it.

And today we continue to learn. We learn how to take care of a house, and a child and two dogs. We are learning more about one another’s needs, and how to accommodate those with the demands of the little human(s) we are raising.

We are embracing this chapter in all it’s messy, confusing, trial-and-error glory. And we are having so much fun doing it.

Tyler, I am so grateful for your friendship, companionship, and love. I chose you seven years ago, and I’ve chosen you every day since. I’m so grateful you choose me too.

To the next years, and chapters, and decades, and all they may bring.

A Light in the Darkness

My heart is broken, and I don’t have the words. But I can’t continue to dwell in my own thoughts. To sit in my own dark place. So I write.

On Sunday morning, an armed man – my age – walked into a nightclub and started shooting. And he didn’t stop. For more than 3 terrifying hours, he took lives and hostages, and he broke our nation, ripping at it’s core. This event was a direct assault against everything we believe in as a country - diversity, freedom, safety. It was a crime fueled by hate and inspired by evil.

It’s certainly not the first time, and sadly, we already know it won’t be the last.

And so, enraged, sad, and broken – we feel helpless, and confused, and scared. We prepare and we brace ourselves for next time.

It’s easy to point fingers. To blame this side or that. This race or religion or that. But while we are turning our heads and plugging our ears, our children, our mothers, our fathers, our grandparents, our friends, our neighbors– they are dying.

And as a parent, my heart is breaking. I try not to be afraid – but the problem, it is getting worse. More mass shootings and bombings – more people dead. The places where we take our children, they are no longer safe.

In the years since 9/11, I have grown from child to adult, from teen to wife, from the protected to the protector. And I made a choice to not be afraid. To continue to get on airplanes, and travel, and live my life as I would if this kind of cowardly evil didn’t exist. And as each mass shooting occurs, I must make this choice again. I must put my brave face on, and I must go into the world, and I must not let them win.

But it’s getting harder.

And now, I have under my protection, a helpless, innocent three-year-old boy with a really big heart. And he doesn’t yet know the horrors that we face. And another innocent life, it grows inside me. And my heart breaks. It breaks for them, and the world they may someday face. It breaks because someday, I’m going to have to find the words to explain and make sense of all of this to them. And it breaks, because I won’t always be able to keep them safely under my wing.

But I will teach them to fly. I will pray that they soar. They will be a part of the solution, they will be a light in the darkness. Together, we will not be afraid. Evil does not win, and I will remind them to look for the good people in every tragedy – because they are there. They show up in uniforms, they show up in t-shirts, they show up in scrubs. And they help. They stand in lines by the thousands to donate blood, they give up their time and their energy and their gifts however they can.

And they outnumber the evil by the millions. And we must be there. We must stand up and show up. 

Evil will not win. We will be a light in the darkness. We will not be afraid.