When Not Knowing is a Blessing

The past few days, I have found myself caught off guard when looking at my son. He’s such a big boy now! He is so tall and plays just like boys do and his sweet face is looking more mature every day. I realize that I must begin to adjust how I respond to him to fit his growing mind.  

Why is it that I am not ready for this? Why must everything go by so fast? Why is it that we gain wisdom only after the times when we could have used it?

Only after our babies have grown up do we realize how fast they really grow. Only after we struggle through those toddler years do we realize how differently we should have done things. Only after we have kids of our own do we realize our parents were right. Only after we leave our childhood nests do we realize how much we miss home. Only after our grandparents pass away do we realize all the things we wish we could ask them. Only after we face difficult circumstances do we realize how short time really is and that we probably overreacted a little, or a lot, to the challenges we endured.

It seems to be our curse that we discover what needs to be done only after it is too late.

Or is it a blessing?

Perhaps we aren’t supposed to know. Perhaps if we already had all the wisdom we needed for life, then wisdom wouldn’t be so great. Perhaps being able to realize when and where we falter is part of the pathway to becoming stronger, better people.  Perhaps this is all God’s way of telling us to be more attentive with our time because it won’t pass our way again.

I may have taken my kids’ baby and toddler year for granted, but I am blessed to have learned the value of time. I may have regrets about how I did certain things in their younger years, but I am blessed to have learned how important it is to think carefully before I make a parenting decision. I may not have realized how much I would miss my childhood home, but I am blessed to have such wonderful memories and can work towards creating great memories for my own children. I may have missed out on some great conversations with my grandparents, but I am blessed to have learned how important it is to cherish time with our loved ones.

 

I am blessed by the lessons which life is continually teaching me. 

 

In what areas do you wish you knew then what you know now? How could not knowing have actually been a blessing? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

 

Don't Blink

A few days ago, my husband and I pulled up some home videos on the computer from the kids’ baby and toddler years. It was amazing to see how much they have changed in just a few short years, but it was also sad to see how much they have changed in such a few short years. It was sad not because I don’t enjoy their ages now, but because I don’t fully remember them being so little. As I watched, part of me felt like I was watching videos of someone else’s kids. Even though I had been the one behind the camera and fully present when those videos were taken, somewhere along the way I forgot about all of those times when they were just learning to crawl or walk or the adorable things they used to say as they learned new words. I forgot about how they would play with their toys, slowly evolving from the play mat to the Exersaucer to the standing push toys. I forgot about how much vitality and independence and love they had in their little minds. I have been so focused on the monotony of the everyday that I had no idea how much had actually changed.

I wonder if there was a way I could have appreciated those times more. I wonder if there was a way that I could have etched those days into my thoughts so that I wouldn’t forget. I think about how the first few years of their lives I was distracted by deployments and not only had to be their sole caretaker, but also had to figure out how to comfort myself. Did I spend too much time on myself? Did I give them as much time and attention as they deserved? Did I remember to heed the advice of others and “soak up these years because they will be gone before you know it?”

Sometimes I wish I could go back to those years and have them be little again. I wish I could change some of the decisions I made or some of the ways I responded to them. I wish I could have known in advance what I needed to do as a parent to appreciate their baby years to the absolute fullest. But I know that I cannot go back. I know that there is no way I could have known any of this in advance given my level of experience at the age I had kids. And I know that everything happens for a reason, to teach a lesson that can be used to steer us in the right direction.

Life goes by fast, whether we have kids or not, whether our kids are babies or teenagers or adults, and whether or not we actually do take the time to fully appreciate each day. All we can do is try our best to stay consciously aware of what’s going on around us and enjoy each day that we’re given. And one piece of advice that I will give to new parents or soon-to -be parents, something that I wish someone had told me, is this: don’t ever blink.

Simple Things

“Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round? Or listened to the rain slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight? Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

Source

You better slow down. Don't dance so fast.

Time is short. The music won't last.

 Do you run through each day on the fly?  When you ask, "How are you?" Do you hear the reply?

 When the day is done do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores running through your head?

You'd better slow down. Don't dance so fast.

Time is short. The music won't last.

 Ever told your child, "We'll do it tomorrow" and in your haste, Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch, let a good friendship die, cause you never had time to call and say,"Hi?"

You'd better slow down. Don't dance so fast.

Time is short. The music won't last.

 When you run so fast to get somewhere, you miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift…Thrown away.

Life is not a race. Do take it slower.

Hear the music, before the song is over.”

-Slow Dance

This poem came to me when I was in high school as a chain-letter e-mail claiming to be written by a terminally-ill girl with cancer, but other reports have denied this.  Whomever wrote it surely touched many hearts with his words.  Even as a teenager, this poem moved me deeply and I have kept it in a file on my computer ever since.  Before today, it had been a few years since I read it, but now I realize how much more pertinent it is to my life.  I am now a mother who often tells my kids to “hold on” or “not today”.  I am a military wife who wishes time to speed along more often than I want to admit.  My mind is always, always buzzing with all the things I need to get done or how I should have said this or that.  At the same time, I often look at my daughter, almost five, and can’t believe she used to be a tiny baby I would hold in my arms.  I think about how I am already thirty and the older I get the faster each year goes by.  This poem reminds me that my song will only play so long.  It reminds me that if I remember to enjoy the simple things, I can make my time that much more fulfilling.

Everyone gets wrapped up in the chaos of life.  But military wives are particularly susceptible to falling into an “I can’t wait until…” mentality.  Who wouldn’t want to rush time when her husband is deployed?  We go through the motions of our days waiting for it to be over so we can cross one more off the calendar.  But by doing this, we miss the beauty and joy in each day.  How often do you stop to look at the beauty of a freshly-bloomed daffodil, or smile when you pass a field of wildflowers while driving down the road?  When is the last time you went outside at night and just gazed up at the stars?  How often do you get frustrated at the amount of noise your kids are making, when you could be simply listening to their joyful laughter?  It is these simple things that give our hearts delight in the everyday, and it is important that we remember to look for them.  Embrace them.  Savor them.  It is not money or material possessions which make us rich, but the ability to grasp the joy of the simple things and “hear the music before the song is over.”  We have the choice to race through life, or to create a life which we will look back on when we are old and know that we have lived our gift to its fullest potential.      

Turning Over a New Leaf

Here is another blog from back in 2009 when the husband was deployed in Iraq. It is one of a series of "chapters" I wrote, beginning with my Good Grief post.  As I read through the past experiences and feelings, the very ones that created a real challenge for my mind, I am amazed by how nearly three years has gone by.  During deployments, we all think they are never going to end.  We all wish that we could just press the fast-forward button and have it all be over in an instant.  But what we don't realize is that our lives are already on fast-forward.  Life really is short, and we must embrace each moment that comes our way, whether we are comfortable in it or not.  I am hopeful that this post will give a little bit of inspiration not just to military wives, but to everyone who wishes to slow down and enjoy life.    
  

(From September, 2009)  “Don’t it always seem to go that we don’t know what we’ve got ‘til it’s gone.”  These words, from the song Big Yellow Taxi, by Joni Mitchell and later covered by Counting Crows, say a lot about life that most of us can probably relate to.  I have always liked this song, but the words did not stand out to me until I was listening to it during a workout shortly after Randall left on this deployment.  As I listened to it, tears came to my eyes because the words hit so close to home.  I realized that all summer long I had been taking for granted the fact that he was here.  On a positive note, there were times when I would get frustrated because he would get home from work so late, something that was out of his control, but I would redirect my thoughts and remind myself to be happy that he at least was coming home at the end of the day.  On the other hand, being the incessant busy body that I am, I also used his presence to fulfill my desires to get things done.  There were rooms to be painted, outdoor chores to be completed, and continuous cleaning to be done inside the house.  Sometimes I felt guilty about pressing my to-do list onto him when he already worked so hard during the week and knowing that he did not have much time at home before he deployed again.  However, I pushed these feelings of guilt aside and we worked together to get things done.  Being the great husband that he is, he followed my lead and helped me complete the tasks.

Now, I am kicking myself for not taking more time to relax and simply enjoy his company.  Though I am happy that we got as much done as we did, I know there are things that we could have put on hold.  I was so focused on wanting to get things done that I didn’t realize that the thing I wanted most was already there.  Perhaps I should have listened to him when he would say, “Stop doing the dishes.  They can wait until morning.  Come relax with me.”  My reply was always something like, “But I can’t relax until they are done.  And if I wake up in the morning to a sink full of dirty dishes, I’ll be in a bad mood.”  Seriously, what is my problem?  Nonetheless, I have realized my faults and am determined to turn over a new leaf.  There will always be things that I would like to accomplish, but from now on the number one thing on my list is going to be to enjoy my family.  Maybe sometimes we can enjoy each other while accomplishing tasks.  However, life goes by too quickly when one is speeding through it trying to get things done.  My goal is to slow down, take time to relax, and let the pile of dishes wait until morning.  My dad used to sing me a verse from a song, “Slow down, you move too fast. You’ve got to make the morning last.”  Let this be a gentle reminder to enjoy those things that matter most in life before they are whisked away faster than it takes to blink an eye.

We are now six weeks into the deployment.  Sometimes I think about how fast those weeks have gone by, other times I feel like we should be at the five month mark by now.  Either way, what is important is that we are progressing further towards Randall’s return each day.  Every morning is one day closer to being together again and that brings joy to my heart.  We are still early in the deployment, but already I am filled with excitement for the end.  I cannot yet see the light at the end of the tunnel, but at least I am traveling through it at a consistent pace.  Sometimes I wonder if I might get myself into trouble by thinking into the future too much.  I tease myself when I think about the late dinner dates that we create for ourselves after the kids go to bed or the glasses of wine and intellectual conversations on the couch because in my heart they feel so close, yet they are still so far away.  This is a new thing for me to have these feelings so early on.  Last year at this point, my focus was on having our baby in February, not on his homecoming at the end of March.  Once the baby was born, then I would be able to focus on his return.  This time, I do not have such an event to focus on, so naturally I end up thinking about when he will be home again.  It is difficult to be so excited for something and knowing that I just have to be patient.  However, the unfailing power of prayer has given me the strength I need to grasp this patience.  This excitement that I am feeling, this early anticipation, is no doubt one answer to my prayers.  Think back to Good Grief where all my feelings of joy were lost and all I could only focus on was the fact that all the happy times we had over the summer were gone.  I prayed for these feelings to get better.  Now, joy has been restored to my heart because I know, even though it is still five months away, Randall is coming home!  

Good Grief

In searching through my old writings, I came across this passage which I wrote 2 1/2 years ago as I embarked on my husband's second deployment.  I wanted to include it in this blog as proof that as gut-wrenching as deployments are, they will come to an end, I promise you!  There is no getting around the feelings we experience in those first few days and those feelings are something we must face head on before we can begin to move past them.  As much as it hurts, the more pain we feel, the stronger we will become as a result.  To those of you dealing with deployments right now, this is for you:

In a world that revolves around days, weeks, months, and years, I have concluded that time is, in fact, the enemy.  How can four months pass by under my nose so quickly?  We were having such a great time together as a family, time that was much needed after such a long seven month deployment, yet it was ripped away from us before we had a chance to realize it.  I’m not sure there is anything we could have done about it anyway.  Time cannot be slowed down.  In fact, it seems to only speed up as I get older.  I think we did a pretty good job of making the most of our time, however we did not prepare ourselves for how difficult it would be to say goodbye again.  Part of me is grateful for the fun times, laughter, and togetherness we had.  I am happy we have so many great memories to smile about.  At the same time, at least right now, I wish I could erase them so that it would not hurt so bad to let go.  I do not want to get a sick feeling in my stomach every time I turn a corner in my house and it reminds me of him.  I do not want to cry when I think of the happy times, longing for them to return.  It is too early right now to look ahead and await his return.  I do not yet have the motivation to get into the old deployment routine where I grudgingly take one day at a time, thankful when I can cross off another week on the calendar.  This time I know how it is going to be, I know what I have to do, yet the idea of doing it all over again is disheartening.

 Looking back, it was but a mere year ago that I was saying goodbye for the first time.  Though sad, I was able to see the end fairly quickly.  I stayed busy with family and friends and before I knew it, the holidays were in full swing.  Once the New Year arrived, all of my energy was centered in the excitement of him coming home in three months.  I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.  In mid February I gave birth to our son and second child.  That was the last big “to do” I had on the list before he came home.  I was more excited than ever.  Not only was he coming home, but we had a new member of the family to celebrate.  I had more to talk about when he called.  I almost didn’t care that he wasn’t home because I knew that he was coming home so soon.  I had nothing but joy in my heart as I planned, up to the day, all the details of his return and welcoming him back home.  I do not know that I have ever had so much joy in my heart.  There is nothing, at that point, that could have dampened my mood.  My husband was going to be home again and we would be together as a family.

 Now, I do not know that I have ever had so much pain in my heart.  It is as though someone ripped my heart out of my chest and then threw salt on the wound.  All that energy I had, all that joy, is gone.  I am grieving its absence so much and I do not know how to deal.  How something so great can go by so fast is incomprehensible to me.  I know that somehow I will get through this deployment too, and eventually my joy will return.  Right now, my wound is still healing and I can only pray that God will hold my hand, re-strengthen my heart, and help me see that the end is closer than it seems.  I must remember that God will not give me anything I cannot handle.   

A Year Gone By

            On a beautiful April morning one year ago, I dropped my daughter off at preschool and set out for some morning errands.  I was feeling particularly happy on that morning because we were half way through my husband’s month-long training exercise and knew that I only had two more weeks before he returned from California.  I hated EMV training.  For some reason, it seemed worse than deployments.  Even though I knew well in advanced the month in which Randall would be away, it still seemed to sneak up on me as though I only had one week’s notice.  I remember the night before he left for this one, we were lying on the couch watching TV and I began to cry.  Randall asked me what was wrong and I told him that I had just realized that I was going to have to be alone with the kids for the next month.  It would be me against two unruly toddlers, and I was not prepared.  I thought back to the last EMV training the previous summer and how frustrated I had become just one week into a four-week long stretch.  By the last few days of it I had concluded that I would not attempt to take the kids anywhere else because I was just too tired of having them act up everywhere we went.  We were not going to leave the house until it was time to go pick up daddy.  As I sat there that night remembering the struggles of taking care of the kids on my own, the tears flooded my eyes and all I could think about was how badly I didn’t want to do it.

               Much to my dismay, Randall headed out to California the next morning.  It was just my luck that the day he left was the first day of Spring break for my daughter’s pre-school, which meant I had both kids all morning long for a week.  I tried my best to stay positive.  I kept telling myself how lucky I was because at least it wasn’t a deployment.  It had been fifteen months since Randall got home from his last deployment and there wasn’t another one slated for him in the near future.  The next possibility was nine months later in January, which gave me plenty of time to prepare.  Lucky I was, because I was certain that not many other pilots’ wives could say the same about the length of time their husbands had been home.  Somehow I made it through that first week of Spring break, and almost another full week beyond that.  That is why I was feeling so good on this particular morning as I ran my errands with my two-year old son in tow.  My last stop was to World Market.  Randall and I enjoy drinking a glass of wine together after the kids go to bed and, in preparation for his return, it was time to stock up the wine fridge.  It made me so happy to pick out different wines thinking about how soon we would be able to enjoy them together.  I couldn’t wait for him to get home and see what I picked out.  I kept daydreaming about sitting down, glass of wine in hand, and discussing all of our plans for the upcoming summer.  We surely had to plan a family trip somewhere, and perhaps we would be fortunate enough to take a weekend away just the two of us.  Oh, how elated I was that morning as I knew my daydreams would soon become reality.  After my errands I picked up my daughter from school and eventually got the kids settled down for their afternoon nap.  With the newly-purchased wines resting neatly in the wine fridge, I got comfortable on my bed and began reading.  I had only read but the first few lines of the book when my phone rang.

                The words hit me like a ton of bricks.  I almost couldn’t breathe.  Deployment.  Mid-May.  Six to seven months.  I was crushed.  I could see all of my plans, my dreams for our summer together, going up in smoke.  Not only was he going to be deploying in a month, but he was still in California for training and wouldn’t even be home for at least another week and a half.  This meant the kids and I had three weeks to see daddy before he had to leave.  The first few minutes of hearing the news I was simply hysterical.  I cried so hard that I couldn’t even talk to Randall on the phone and told him I would have to call him back.  Over the next few minutes my hysteria turned into anger.  When I finally caught my breath long enough to call him back, I was mad.   “Why is this happening?  Why didn’t they give you more notice?  How could they only give us three weeks to prepare for something so huge?”  It just wasn’t fair.  The spirit that had filled my soul earlier that morning was gone and I now had to figure out how I was going to get through the summer with just me and the kids.  The pride that I usually had for the Marine Corps turned into resentment.  I told Randall that if this is how it was going to be, then he needed to get out of the Marine Corps sooner rather than later.

                We all say things we don’t necessarily mean when we are angry.  That afternoon after the kids woke up I took them to the park so they could burn off some energy and I could just sit and think.  I was able to calm myself down enough to begin thinking clearly of a new plan for the summer.  I had two sets of family I could go visit and wonderful friends and neighbors to spend time with when I was at home.  Hopefully people would come visit me too, and I could always hire a babysitter weekly so I could get out of the house on my own for a few hours.  I knew the best thing to do was to surround myself with as many people as possible as often as possible.  If I could just get through the summer, the fall would be smooth sailing as both kids would be in preschool and I would get a much needed break in the mornings.  Basically, it all boiled down to the fact that there was nothing I could do to change our circumstances, and I knew that I would get through it somehow.

                As I write this now, one year after that fateful phone call, I am humbled by and amazed at how short a year really is.  Not only is Randall home again, but he has been home for three months and from the moment he stepped back into the house it was as though he never left.  I admit that I did not have a positive attitude for the majority of this deployment.  I was very bitter most of the time and felt like it was never going to end.  But, just as a mother forgets the pains of labor as soon as her baby is born, I forgot about the pain and bitterness that had taken over my heart as soon as our family was again complete.  Looking back on those eight months, I realize that despite my bitterness I was somehow able to accomplish exactly what I needed to do to get through it.  I learned that someone else’s grass is always greener, but somewhere else another person’s grass is much worse and I decided to be thankful for my blessings.  For as many things about the deployment that I didn’t like, there were twice as many things that made it okay, the most wonderful one being that my husband came home.  No deployment is easy, and the feelings and emotions that a spouse experiences throughout those long months are by all means justifiable.  But a year is short.  It may not always feel like it, but time will pass and the deployment will end.  When it does, we will look at our spouses sitting next to us, glass of wine in hand, and smile with pride at the great obstacle we were able to accomplish together. 

Picture by Julie Stone Photography