Military Monday: Laugh

My husband and I took a cruise in the Mediterranean for our honeymoon a whole lot of years ago. We opted for the shared dining experience in the big dining room, and were fortunate enough to share our table with a family of five from Hamilton. I can't remember their names...only that dad was a lawyer and mom was a nurse and the kids were all in their mid to late teens.

This Hamilton family expanded their space to us and we became part of their unit over the next few days. I remember thinking how nice it was that they were travelling as a family, even though the kids were older. That at a time when most kids wanted nothing to do with their parents, their three almost-grown children wanted to be with their parents. I admired them as a family. Why?

They were having FUN together.

They joked with Dad about the 'real leather vest' (obviously fake) he'd bought off of a pedlar on the street. They giggled about how Dad had danced with the feather-boa clad entertainers on stage. Mom smiled and daughters whispered and son tried to look mature and grown-up, and they teased and joked and giggled and five course meals passed in seconds.

I remember thinking that some day, I wanted a family like that.

This family stuck with me as my husband and I had children of our own over the next few years. And now in the blink of an eye we have teens. (How is that possible? Weren't they just babies yesterday?) Our life is crazy and hectic and with two careers and military life and a farm and a thousand extra-curriculars, I wonder how we can possibly make it to next week, let alone manage stay together as a family. When hubby is on one side of the world and I'm knee deep in assorted excrement (think dog, cat, sheep, chicken, horse...) and I have to somehow get three kids to three different parts of the country by myself, on a day I have to be at work, and I've got writing deadlines and groceries to buy and laundry to do and--oh yes!--did I mention it's posting season and the house has to be spotless because the real estate agents are taking pictures while we're out?

I'll tell you how we manage.

We laugh.

We giggle and we joke and we do silly things and instead of taking things seriously, we take risks.
We  go skiing when it's thirty below zero. We drive to places we've never seen. Dad tells the same silly jokes over and over and when he goes away we eat popcorn for supper and play loud music and dance.

Sometimes it's hard to laugh. When people are sick, when the money is short, when friendships go awry or when bad things happen. When reunions get delayed.  When information doesn't get passed on. When Dad misses a birthday. There will always be a fine line between laughter and tears. There's nothing wrong with tears. Tears are strength in liquid form.

But if at all possible, tip things upward and giggle. Find something in it to laugh about.

Ten years later we'll look back on the difficult times and laugh. We'll wonder what we were so worried about. Because really, laughter is background music for great family memories.

Brenda


"I think laughter may be a form of courage. As humans we sometimes stand tall and look into the sun and laugh, and I think we are never more brave than when we do that."
                   ~Linda Ellerbee

My Wonderful MSP

(Most Supportive Person)

A loooooooong time ago, I met a guy in a flight suit. He had that flight suit swagger--you know the "I fly big fancy planes" walk that Tom Cruise perfected and many others have attempted in various

degrees of success. Well the guy I met was also named Tom and he was rather cute. Although I had sworn up and down I would NEVER end up with a military guy, let alone a PILOT...well, he swaggered his way right into my heart.

Sixteen years ago today, I said 'I do' to this uniformed man in a little church the little town where I grew up. Although times have occasionally been difficult and we've spent many, many months apart, I have never regretted it. He is a wonderful, loving, thoughtful father to our three amazing children, and the most supportive and caring husband. He is my best friend and my partner-in-crime. My sounding board and my life-line. He has read thousands of pages of my drivel and always finds just the right thing to say to make it better. He has worked endless hours on the phone and on the computer finding contacts and bookstore managers and newspaper reporters and connections to help my books find homes. And he never complains. He is always there when I need him, whether a million miles away or in the next room. I am so incredibly blessed to have him by my side.

Sixteen years seems like a long time and just a heartbeat. So many moves, so many changes, and so many exciting moments. The ride is just beginning, though.

Tom and I all gussied up.

I hope we have sixty more happy years
together.

Happy Anniversary Thomas Dunne!.

Work In Progress Update...

After weeks of barely time to to think, let alone write, I finally managed to sit down to work on my WIP (Adult Contemporary, tentatively titled DEPENDENT) this week.  Thought I'd share a little Monday teaser. I'm sure some of you will recognize these feelings...

I gradulally rein in my emotions, taking slow, even breaths as John tells me about his trip—the flight over the Rockies, the turbulence over the prairies, the obnoxious jokes bantered around in the cock-pit. I make the required noises, the “Uh-hums” and the “Yeahs” and the “Ohs” that he wants to hear. The normalness of the conversation is soothing. He goes places, I listen to his stories, and live my life through his excitement. He longs for time with the kids, sitting at home, and I long for the excitement of new places and unknown skies.

“I gotta go,” he says after a few minutes more. “Meeting the crew for a debrief at seven.”

“Okay,” I say, and the panic starts to rise again.

“I’ll call you tomorrow if I get a chance, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

“Love you,” he says.

“Love you too…” I reply, and then he hangs up.

I put the phone on the cradle slowly, the familiar emptiness expanding within me. I’m a thousand miles away in his hotel room, and I’m right here on this slowly disappearing mound of laundry. I shouldn’t really miss him yet, he’s only been gone a few hours, but I miss what he is to me. He’s safety and warmth, and someone to talk to. He’s a raft in a windswept sea of insanity. He’s normal and happy and calm and silly and all of the things that make life bearable. I miss that.

I’m still staring at the phone when it rings again.

 

 

I just hit 47,000 words with this one and am hoping to finish it by the end of October.  And then it's NaNoWriMo time! November is all about a a sequel to Treasure in the Flame. I'm rolling around ideas for a name for Treasure #2.  Hmmmmm....

Have a great Monday!

 

Brenda