Songs of the Seasons

It’s amazing to me how much music can evoke emotion within us.  There is something magical floating amidst the words and melodies that tugs on our heartstrings.  Sometimes the feelings are happy, sometimes they are sad, and sometimes they are simply reminiscent.  We come to form associations between certain songs and a particular person, place, or time in our lives.  Over time, these songs become part of us, part of the stories that shape our lives, and part of the memories we hold closest to our hearts.

I was very young when I realized the power of music on my emotions.  I still remember some of the songs I would hear on the radio as I sat in the back seat of the car looking out the window at the busy freeway on the way to grandma’s house.  That was in the mid-80s.  A few years later when our new house was being built, the popular songs of the time would be blasting from the workers’ radios while my family and I walked through the framework of what would soon be our home.  When I hear those songs today, I can feel the heat of that summer on my skin and almost smell the sawdust and freshly laid cement in our new basement.  I was only six years old.

The songs of the nineties represent many different seasons of my life. Some songs take me back to the early nineties when my brother and I would roller-skate in our basement with rock-songs playing on the radio.  Others remind me of school and summer vacations, friends and crushes.  Still others make me think about the Saturdays my mom and I would go shopping together or when my brother got his driver’s license and I’d ride with him learning the sounds of groups such as Boston, Pearl Jam, Live, Metallica, and weird heavy metal stuff for which I had no affinity.

The beginning of the new millennium was a time when I was big into Country music.  The songs I listened to take me back to my line-dancing days and the hours I spent at the grungy, smoke-filled bar dancing away until the wee hours of the morning.  I am reminded of the first concert I ever attended, where Kenny Chesney opened for Tim McGraw.  A few years later in 2003, I met a man.  He liked me enough to go line dancing with me, and the rest is history.  We both loved country music, and created “our songs” from the Top-20 list that was continually playing on the radio.  I can still feel the rush of excitement from sitting next to this guy I was incredibly smitten with while we drove around singing along to Rascal Flatts or Chris Cagle or George Strait.  But country music wasn’t all we listened to, and it turned out that we both had similar taste in almost all music.  He even got me to branch out and start listening to R&B and rap.  We have had some fun times listening to the crazy things these artists sing about!

In the past few years, music has created more emotion within me than ever before.  When Randall is deployed I find that certain songs speak to me, helping me to get by just a little bit longer.  I have been inspired to keep pushing forward and to think about the things which are good rather than the negatives.  Every so often, Randall will tell me of a song that reminds him of me and every time I hear it, it comforts me to know how he feels.  Certain songs remind me of the good times we have made together as a family and how much we have grown over the years. 

Right now, as we are adjusting to our new home, I am struggling to feel settled.  Everything is new and it has been hard for me to feel like I belong.  After living in North Carolina for so long, I had become part of the community.  I was known not only among fellow military families but in the civilian community as well.  The cashiers at the stores knew my face, some even knew my name.  I was known as Keira and Clay’s mom at their school.  I had made friends all around my neighborhood and beyond.  As much as Randall was deployed, I learned how the people and places in the area worked, figured out where places were, and learned short cuts in getting there.  Now, I am starting all over again.  The music I play to calm my mind only teases me, reminding me of all of those things I am missing.  The memories make me smile, but the desire to return to those times, to return to the place where those memories were created, dampens my spirits.  I keep reminding myself to have patience, that it has only been a few weeks.  One thing I have learned being a military wife is that transitions take time.  Eventually, I hope, there will be songs that remind me of this place when I hear them.  I hope to be reminded of the fun times we have created here and to see this season of my life as yet another one filled with great memories. 

A Letter to my House

Dear House,

How quickly our years together have gone.  It feels like yesterday we were moving in and trying to figure out how to arrange our belongings and the best places to position the pictures on your walls.  The first night I stayed here I remember not being able to sleep from the strange noises and the unfamiliarity of the darkness around your corners.  I was nervous for the safety of our newborn baby down the hall.  But how quickly that changed and we soon began to breathe life into you, to make you our shelter, our safe haven, our home.  The unsettling darkness became more familiar and I could rest knowing I was safe within you.  I grew accustomed to the strange noises of the night and soon didn’t even realize they were there.  As I unpacked the boxes and placed all of our things throughout your rooms, I began to feel a welcoming warmth, a sense of life, as though your blood had begun to flow and your heart had begun to beat.

It wasn’t long before I fell into a daily routine.  The gentle glow of the sun just beginning to shine through your windows every morning was so comforting.  How much I enjoyed walking down the hallway with the dawn of light filling your rooms and leading the way to my baby girl.  I’d pick her up out of her crib and carry her with me as I opened the blinds to every window, letting light come inside and warm the air.  It was time for you to wake up too.  I’d get breakfast going in the kitchen while listening to the noises of Keira playing in her bouncy chair and the Today show in the background. I’d slowly sip my coffee, basking in the glory of a new day.  Oh, how many wonderful mornings I have enjoyed with you!

Time went on, and days turned into weeks, months, and years as they always do.  Our first deployment came along, then a second, then a third.  You were there, comforting me through my pain and sadness and helping me to feel safe when I was alone.  A second baby became part of our family.  You stood strong, protecting me through the pregnancy and in those first few weeks of our little boy’s life when his daddy was still deployed and I was figuring out how to be a mother of two.  When I traveled to see family, despite my joy in visiting with them, I longed for your comfort and security, for the cozy feeling I would get as I laid on the couch every night relaxing the day away.  Your breath, your heartbeat, continually lured me back to you, the only place I could truly call home.

When we bought you, you were just a structure, a building with a roof to protect us from the wind and rain.  We would have been blessed if that was all you ever were.  But to me, you became more than that. You became like a child to me.  When we moved in, you came alive and I have felt like it was my duty to keep you alive, to make you the best that you could be.  I’ve painted your walls, and hung curtains on your windows.  I’ve cleaned you down to every corner and crevice.  If something needed to be fixed and I could do it myself, I fixed it.  We nurtured your yard, giving you a fence and patio in the back and a charming tree in the front.  We’ve (finally!) gotten your grass to be a plush carpet of green.  We’ve worked hard on giving you as much as we could, and it is undeniable that every penny, every bead of sweat, has been more than worth it.

As we have grown, as our lives have changed, you have been there to witness it all.  If you could talk, you could say more about our family than anyone.  I hope you would have good things to say.  The memories we have been able to create within and around you are priceless.  I will always treasure the sight of my babies learning to crawl and walk in your rooms.  I will reminisce about the joy the kids got from playing outside in your yard.  I will laugh at the silly arguments Randall and I would get into during our family home-improvement projects, but delight in the joy we got from the end results.  And I will be forever thankful to you for being such a splendid home, a safe place for my kids to have their first years, my trusted protection when Randall was gone, and the perfect template for creating so many wonderful memories.  But the time has come, as we knew it would, for the military to move us again.  I am sad to have to say goodbye, but you will always be with me in my heart.  And when the next person who lives here opens your blinds and the morning sunlight warms you, perhaps you will remember me, remember us, the ones who brought you to life and started the beating of your heart.

With Love,

Lisa     

This Too Shall Pass

The stresses of moving are officially in full swing.  It's been over a week since my last post because we were enjoying wonderful family vacation in Myrtle Beach with my husband's family.  I had brought my computer down with me in hope that I would get the chance to write at least one post, but ultimately I needed the time to just relax and enjoy the time with everyone.  Besides, everyone needs a break from their job, which is what I am calling this blog for myself.  It makes me feel more intellectual during a time when I am almost always stuck in "mommy brain."

Now that we are home from the Beach, the task list we had been procrastinating on has reared its ugly face.  I'm not too worried, since I work better under pressure anyway.  But I cannot deny that the stress level has risen.  And it will continue to rise the closer we get to the move.  The fact that I've gone through all of this before has no value.  It never gets easier to turn your house upside down after being settled for several years.  But if I have learned anything while living here, it is to always try to find the positive in a difficult situation.  One thing that is always good about moving is finding those things which haven't been used in a few years and getting rid of them.  I love de-cluttering!

What is more bothersome for me than all of the things which must be completed is knowing that I will be leaving some great people behind.  I have been so blessed in this place to have been surrounded by remarkable people who have helped me as a new mom, people who have guided me as a military wife, and people who have been more than willing to help when my husband was deployed.  I have formed relationships which have made living here that much more enjoyable.  Not only will I miss these people, but I am also nervous that it will be hard to find people like that in our new place.  I wonder if it is possible to be that lucky somewhere else. 

    

It is times like these, when worry and stress run high, that a military wife is given the choice to let her situation defeat her or to stand strong and make the most of something she can't change.  She is given the chance to become a little bit stronger, develop a little more perseverance, and bloom a little bigger.

For now, I am staying positive.  I am optimistic that this move will be good for me and for our family.  I know I will eventually make new friends, and am trying to not be apprehensive about it.  And when I grow tired, when my body is physically exhausted and my mind has had enough thinking and planning and worrying, I will remember, "This too shall pass." -Ancient Proverb