It ALL goes

"It ALL goes"

I tried to get a picture of the mountain of stuff in our living room floor, but the picture just doesn't do it justice. Oh, and there was more on the couch. And in the bedroom. And out in the car. But this was a good start.

David got his packing done yesterday. Well, most of it, anyway. I was amazed! at how much stuff he has to take! I guess it shouldn't be that surprising. This is the gear he'll need for a whole year, I suppose. I mean, if I'm being honest, he didn't really have that much more than I used to take to a twirling contest for my team or to a football game for my colorguard....as long as I'm being honest. This is A LOT of stuff, I mused. What's he gonna put it all in? On cue, he comes in from the garage carrying a fantastic rolling duffle/footlocker/trunk thing. He fluffed it open and I was in awe. Not only was it big enough to easily hold both my kids, but it was made so well! (For me, it's all about details!) It was made from a great, heavy nylon, had tons of outside pockets, a U-shaped zipper, and, and, it even had cushions you could velcro into the interior to make compartments!

"Wow." I muttered. Eyes wide, mouth agape.

David saw my obvious approval. "Pretty nice, huh?"

"Well, yeah....But, all I can think is, Oh MY GOSH!...If only I'd had one of those during football season!"

"Do I have it all?"

After the brief love affair with David's duffle bag, the reality of what he was doing started to set in. It's only mild panic. I'm still good. Instead of watching him pack, I heated up some vegetable beef soup and focused on picking out the carrots. (Doing some sort of meticulous fine motor activity is usually pretty soothing for me, like with jewelry making, or calligraphy, or picking carrot bits from soup.) Sadly, there can be but one outcome. There were no survivors.

I relaxed on the sofa with my mushy-carrot-free soup, and David began giving me directions on how he'd like me to spend this coming year, things he'd like done while he's away. Finally! I'd been waiting for some kind of advice from him all along...some words of encouragement to help me navigate the year ahead. I was like Luke listening to Yoda's last words, as Yoda told him everything he needed to know before he confronted Darth Vader. And since our battle with this deployment is looming, I'd been needing some clear, laid-out directions from David...seeing as The Force seems to be a rather unreliable form of communication, especailly from Iraq.

He told me things like, buy a new couch and maybe a new T.V., get rid of the freakin' papasan, enroll the kids in extracurriculars as soon as we can...stuff like that. And even though these were things I'd already planned to do, it made me feel better knowing that's what he wants, too. We talked about balancing between "pay off debt" and "buy new things." And frequently, he would bring up something that needs to be done, then say nothing more than, "I trust your judgement." Even that seemed especially helpful.

"Hey, baby! Wha'CHU doin?"

David in his new goggles. He's so handsome!

*****

***And now to introduce a little segment we like to call,

"The Army Way."***

"Hey, I think I'm gonna take our little flashlight with me."

"But what about the big flashlight they issued you? Do you need ours as well as that one?" I asked.

"Actually, I don't need the big one at all. They suggest you carry a small flashlight with you at all times. One that can fit in your pocket. So, I'll take our little one and I'll leave the big one here with you guys."

"Why would they issue you a flashlight you don't need to take, and suggest you take one that you have to provide on your own?"

All together now! "...Because that's The Army Way!"

*****

"Maybe this will help"

David tried deciphering the list with his goggles on. As if wearing some kind of Army gear will help him "feel" the list...become one with the list.

"What? I never even got four pairs of socks!"

Even after everything was packed, there were still a few things David would need to get before he'd be ready to go.

*****

During my three years in Kansas City, I often lamented my lack of new friends and close ties. My entire time there I hardly ever traveled outside my little triangle -- home to Target, home to church, church to Target -- none of which were even a mile from my house. It was rare to ever go beyond that. I felt like I was living underground, living down inside a pit. I wondered when I would feel like I "fit" into Kansas City, would I ever feel like I fit? My neighbor and I hung out a lot, but we were each too busy with our own children to make any real, meaningful bonds. I stayed in touch, off and on, with my girlfriends from college. And Lauren, Mamy, Jamie, and Adrianne all took a turn coming to KC to see me. It was during their visits that I saw daylight. I owed them my sanity.

Now we're in Killen. The armpit of Texas it may be, but something has changed, dramatically. In the last two weeks there have been over 40 new friends added to my Facebook page, and none of them strangers. I talk to my girlfriends more now...they call me and I call them. I answer emails and send comments. I'm posting more pictures and writing again. It feels like I'm being, for lack of a better word, exhumed...lifted from my pit and dusted off. And aside from the dread, panic, anxiety, and fear that slap me down every so often, I feel...happier, I think.

Most of all, I am blown away by the numbers of well-wishers who've reached out to me. People I've not seen or spoken to, in some cases, for 20 years! I don't go to movies with them, or out for drinks, or have play dates, or work in the same building. Still, they have all freely sent me their prayers, kind words, and much-appreciated advice. I can't say this with any certainty, but I think I might just make it through the next 12 months...with sanity intact. I'm hopeful, and that's more than I was before.

So much time spent needing new friends. How could I have known? ...The new friends I needed were the old friends I'd had all along.

Love and warm golden fuzzies...