Engage. Educate. Encourage. EMPOWER.
Moving. PCSing. Relocating. Whatever you want to call it, the event (no matter how routine for some of us) is really not a singular activity. The whole process comes with much more than a pile of boxes containing everything you own.
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We’re currently stationed on Okinawa, a place pretty well known for ghost stories. I never paid it much mind, except for when our cats are staring at things that aren’t there and chasing invisible apparitions into the “ghost closet,” as we lovingly call it. But, spooky October is here and has brought with it some ghosts of duty stations past.
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Tomorrow I’m meeting Jordan.
We’re meeting up at my favorite Italian restaurant because it was left up to me to pick the location. We’re meeting up because Jordan asked a question on Facebook. And, well, I honestly don’t know why it continued any further than my answering of that question.
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I have this running joke between my husband, my best friend, and myself. I like to think of it as “the importance filter.” It all came about when my husband told me he was in charge at work. Not like he’s running the whole Army or anything, but he was in charge of something that implied some pretty solid responsibilities. As he just casually shared this information mid-conversation, I stopped him and said, “I didn’t know you were in charge. That’s huge!”
“Yes, Wife, I’m kind of important.”
To which I replied, “Well, you could have told me! I tell you stuff all the time, little stuff, big stuff, important or not.”
And there began my realization that I often don’t have an “importance filter.” I love creating mini-stories—about things that shouldn’t even be stories. Little anecdotes that leave you thinking—“What’s your point?” These stories are often not important at all, but they are quite humorous.
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Yesterday as I was scrolling through Facebook, I noticed a lot of my former coworkers had shared a post regarding Teacher Appreciation Week. The post asked for updates from parents or former students, stating something along the lines of, “If I ever taught you or your child, this year for Teacher Appreciation Week please share what you (or your child) are up to now.” I, of course, read through some of the comments. And on one friend’s comments, a mom posted an update that her son was now a rescue swimmer in the Navy and included a photo.
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My husband and I love watching shows and movies. I remember this being one of the things we even discussed in pre-martial sessions—how we liked uncovering the “story” together. But the longer we’re together, we also notice and poke fun at each other for little habits, and eventually, our habits overlap.
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Third time’s a charm. I’ve been sitting here, stumped on how to start getting words on this page, next to my husband who has now motioned three times toward my computer. Silently cheering me on, supporting me, generally adding to the evidence of why I know I’m lucky.
There are always little things that seem lucky, like that time I won a free drink from the vending machine at work or when I won the bingo game that scored us a free four-day pass for my husband, already signed by his command to use whenever he liked.
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Yes, that title is a favorite Less Than Jake lyric of mine. But this month, it is most definitely true. February holds my favorite day of the whole year—the day my husband and I met. And this year, we’ll have known each other for 10 whole years. More than a quarter of our lives, by just a smidge. Gosh, I love that so very much. Congratulations to us!
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The best (and by best, I mean most hilarious) lunch I’ve ever had from the commissary was macaroni and cheese. I’ve gotta hand it to these folks, really, because they got me pretty good. Now, if you know me, or have known me for more than five minutes, you know macaroni and cheese is my favorite food. I eat a lot of it and often…a habit I’ve had for years.
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