The Art Of Showing Up

Hey, y'all.

Lest everyone think that we're breezing through this deployment without a care in the world, let me assure you: It's the hardest thing I've ever done, and we're only 29 days in. I cry a lot, because I miss your dad and because I'm just overwhelmed in every way a person can be. I try to remind myself that I have it pretty good, comparatively. I'm not 25 years old, pregnant, married to an infantry guy and living on a base where I don't know anyone. I don't know how those spouses make it. God bless them, truly.

You two have been exceptional so far, and I'm not just saying that because I'm your mother and it's my job to be your number one fan.

Last Saturday was a great example of a day in the life of this deployment:

Laney, we'd had your good friend Hollis over for a sleepover on Friday night, which seemed to boost your spirits. You two woke up on Saturday morning and decided to open a restaurant in our kitchen - The LaHolly Cafe. I was allowed to bring a date, so I chose your brother (as he was the only other person in the house, but also because he's so handsome). You made menus, and I applauded your decision to offer adults wine and beer at 7:30am. Hagen liked that we were offered a bowl of chips when we sat down.

Management at LaHolly Cafe has a few kinks to iron out - like if you want cheesy eggs, you have to make them yourself and also make a side order for the restaurant employees - but I've noted these things on my Yelp review, and I'm sure they're being taken into consideration.

I thought about how it stinks that your dad is missing out on stuff like this, and it made me a little weepy. Then, I opened our front door and discovered that it had snowed six inches overnight. Your dad will barrel through anything in the Subaru, but I don't share his appreciation for "When in doubt, peel out." I felt absolutely trapped, and a little hopeless, and went back to doing laundry. (Side note: nothing compounds depression like laundry.)

About an hour later, there was a knock at our door and I opened it, surprised to find Greg, Ms. Correy's husband. He said, "I just shoveled your car out. Let me know if you need anything else!"  I nodded and thanked him and thought, "If this man tries to hug me right now, I will absolutely start sobbing in my driveway."

I checked my e-mail, and found the joke of the day from dear friend Clay Mercer. Even though he's 2,300 miles away, he's found a way to make me feel less alone by e-mailing me every single morning without fail a (usually absolutely terrible) joke with a little pep talk sometimes thrown in on the side. He says he's going to send me one every day until your dad gets back. Because they're G-rated, I've been copying them on slips of paper and putting them in Laney's lunchbox so she can share them with her class. It's a nice little bit of positive energy.

I also got an e-mail from Granny Jack who said she was impressed by how well I was doing with you two. That perked me up, too, because any time you're trying to do the job of two parents, you're bound to think you're mucking it all up. Someone telling you you're doing something right can turn your day around.

Then my friend Julie invited us over for a potluck dinner and movies, because she knows it's not good for us to be alone all the time.

What I'm learning is that the best friends in the world are the ones who find ways to be there for you without being asked. They just show up. Whether it's giggling all night at a sleepover and opening a faux cafe to take your mind off your dad being gone, or shoveling a friend's car out or even e-mailing the kind of joke that would be at home on a popsicle wrapper...it's the folks who have mastered the art of showing up that are going to get us through this.






Love,
Mom