The Fresh Prince(ss) of Bel Air

"Now this is a story all about how my life got flip-turned upside down, and I'd like to take a minute -- just sit right there -- I'll tell ya how I became the prince(ss) of a town called Bel Air..."

If you're wondering how much I'm going to overuse/overplay that song over the next four years, let me set your fears at ease: A LOT. Constantly. Consistently. I mean, how many times in a person's life could they ever put themselves (sort of) into a DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince song?!? Pft. Please. You wish.

All joking aside, I have been so thrilled with the house we have chosen and, God willing, will own in about a month after we close. Not only is it gorgeous, the seller seems fair and amicable and motivated to keep her end of the deal. We sifted through a lot, and I mean A LOT, of inventory before we even met with our realtor, who is a really fun person and a great realtor. I wondered at first how well she would understand us and our needs/wants. After having met and worked together she has proven to be very intuitive and assertive, which I love. By the end of our marathon house viewing session last week, R. and I had two houses to chose from that were both outstanding options for our family. I still can't believe how well this has gone so far and pray that I haven't jinxed the process by feeling so confident about it!

One thing I have learned as a newlywed going through this process is that it can stress even the best of relationships, and it really points out how different you can be from your spouse. There were plenty of areas where we didn't agree on the layout of a room or things we would change, etc., but at the end of the day, R. and I were both very much in tune with what each other felt were pros and cons of each property we were seriously considering. I think my favorite memory of this experience was at the end of the day where we were making our final decision on which house to submit an offer. We were pretty mentally spent from really walking through each nook and cranny of both houses and trying to visualize our reality at each property. I flopped down on the side of the tub in the master bath of one house, and he sat next to me. I just stared out the window, too exhausted to move, and asked him what he thought. By the end of his careful run-down of everything we had talked about during the day, he just looked at me and said we should put the offer in on the first house. I looked at him and thoroughly agreed.

It was like a huge weight had been lifted off our brains once we made that decision. And as much as we pored over every possible detail, it was a fairly easy decision to make. We definitely agonized over the decision, but once we made it, it just felt right. I was beaming when we walked down the stairs and out to the car. Of course we would put in an offer on the first home -- I remember when I saw the first pictures of the kitchen I said, "Now this looks like a K. and R. kind of house!" I still loved the second house and knew that we would be happy with it, but it just had too much significant work to be done to the basement to make it the best choice for us, but that's a whole other story. With only a couple of minor changes in paint, the house we chose is move-in ready.



Check out the workstation in my new kitchen! This is where GGG's bloggy magic will happen in the future! All within bright, lovely walking space of my coffee pot! Swoon! What's not to love?!?

What's better is that the house is less than a mile from the school where BOTH kids will attend (thank you, Jesus, for blessing me with having them in one school in the same town for once!). Additionally, we are located in a great place for R. to access work, and there is a neat Lutheran church within three miles of the house. Oh. And a Buffalo Wild Wings within walking distance of the house. WALKING DISTANCE! Heck yeah!

In all honesty, I've been praying over this whole situation about finding a house. I may not be the most consistent, scheduled pray-er in the world, but each time I would sit down to look at stuff I couldn't help but ask the Lord to be preparing the way for our family to find the right home, schools, teachers, church, etc., and to help us with a smooth transition. The house I really felt we would look at, love, and buy wasn't even available by the time we got up there by a matter of mere days. But look at what we got instead! Even better! We aren't moved yet, and we haven't closed yet for that matter, but things feel like they are on the right track, and I'm incredibly thankful.

That being said, life on the post will be a challenge. It's harder to connect with your military community when you don't live there. We found out very quickly that living on post would not be the way to go, and this post is a bit of a ghost town. There are a lot of personnel coming our way over the next couple of years, so I fully expect this to change. (We are getting 12 general officers and their wives, all of whom expect to live on post. HA! I wish I could see the looks on their faces when they get here. Hopefully that will be the most potent catalyst for change.) I am fully prepared to check out the PWOC on post and be a part of that ministry as a way to connect with other wives. However, I'm thinking this could be another one of those ways where I walk into a group that is struggling to stick around and I become a work horse. On one hand, it's a great way to see God at work when groups like this go from fledgling to thriving and growing. On the other hand, it can be physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting. I'm coming from a situation with my church that has been stressful in the past but is on the path to strength and renewal, which is relieveing. However, I don't know if I can take four more years of that same level of stress and support my family at the same time. Hey -- it's God's knot to unravel. I'm just along for the ride to figure out where God needs me to plug in, right? Either way, it should be an interesting ride!

'"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."' -- Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Transformation: Becoming An "SP" Again

Wow. Here it is, already April, and life is moving so fast once again. Spring brings about recitals, team sports, and class programs if you have school-aged children. It also brings about much hustle and bustle for anyone involved in a church as you move from the reflective season of Lent into the shining glory of the empty tomb on Resurrection Morning. In my family, add to all this a slew of family birthdays and anniversaries. Tired yet? TOO BAD! Because now my life has spun back into action as a new wife. And not just any wife, the wife to an active duty soldier in the Army. One who is making a transcontinental move in, oh, about five days. In what took the ID card lady about 10 minutes to change in her omnipotent computer system, I went from being a "URW" (Unremarried Widow) to being a "SP" (spouse) again in a few keystrokes. What those keystrokes symbolize absolutely blows my mind.

It's crazy to think about where my life was six months ago, a year ago, five years ago, etc. R. and I recently married (see S4J and His Girl for some hysterical footage and on-the-go vlogging), and with the wedding/life planning process there came a lot of opportunity for reflection. I would be remiss if I glossed over all of this, so I need to document it now while it is still fresh in my mind, before my feeble brain is clogged with other details that need more immediate attention.

WEDDING PLANNING

This is, in the minds of some, like childbirth: something amazing to experience, painful while going through it, yet you only remember the good stuff about it, although you pray to the good Lord to never have to do it again and swear to pay off your children so that they elope when the time comes. Also, there is this misconception that there is an "appropriate" amount of time to be engaged or that it takes at least a year to plan an amazing, wonderful event. To quote John Pinette, "I say 'nay-nay'!" We were engaged for just shy of four months. In the first three weeks I was able to secure an amazing florist, our reception site which handled our food and beverages, a wedding cake, buy my dream gown, and order my invites and paper goods. I didn't exactly cut corners, but I also didn't want to break the bank. I did all that in three weeks being a single parent, albeit I don't work outside the home. Folks, it can be done.

I happened upon some really great vendors who are skilled at their craft. As the days dwindled down, both my groom and I were able to enjoy looking forward to our big day without having to put out fires and come up with lots of scatterbrained contingency plans last minute. Overall, I'd say we got what we wanted and the whole event was even better than we could have dreamed.

THE ROAD TO THE CHAPEL

As lovely as all this is, wedding planning for me was not just about procuring the perfect flowers, dress, or menu. Wedding planning was another step in the grief process. It was about really learning what it means to join with this person and become one. That is hard to do when it means completely cleaving yourself from the one you lost and can take time. There is no room for three people in a marriage. It was, for me, one of the most amazing, surreal days of my life.

I know this may sound really confusing to some of you. I will attempt to describe what was going on in my heart over those months, but I just don't know if I can do this justice or not. I promise not to be unduly dark or sarcastic (aww, maaaannn!), just telling it like it was for me and trying to put you in my brain as best I can.

If you are married, picture yourself back on your own wedding day, exuberant and brimming with love for this person you married. Think over some of the best days and worst days of your marriage. Think about the children you have had, or something over which you have both bonded. Think about some of the dreams and goals you have set for your lives together. Take one last look at your spouse now. Remember every minute detail that you can, because this will be the last look you ever get. Touch them, smell them, feel the warmth in their skin before it is gone. That's gonna have to last you a while. Now turn around and walk out the door. Once you leave, you can never go back -- it's a one-way ticket to your new life.

Now imagine you, your children, all of your things, and put them in a different state. Take your friends, your church, the things you see during your daily grind, and erase those from your daily landscape. Put a new, pleasant but unfamiliar environment outside your door. You can have as many pictures and artifacts of your spouse as you want. You can pretend to talk to them on the phone, set a place for them at the table, whatever you want, but you will never see them again. You still feel like a family waiting on someone to come home from a business trip, but that traveller's key will never turn in your door again. Do this day in and day out. Oh yeah, and keep your chin up while you're at it.

Let a few years pass. The feeling finally comes back to your body and your heart, slowly as if you are thawing from a hard freeze. The shock and pain has worn off, and you no longer feel as if you are waiting for missing link. You've developed a new sense of normal. Normal relative to you. You might look at the lives of others and wonder what it was ever like to be a traditional family. Ponder what effect your life events will have on your children as they grow up, fall in love, and decide whether or not they will marry. Scarier still, ponder what effect your own grief has had on your children and how much time and money they will have to spend in therapy! Now that you're pretty much done thawing out, you have a stark realization: you want to step away from the one you lost into the arms of another.

Maybe you will take that step, maybe you won't. For the sake of our narrative, let's say you do. How will you handle telling a love interest about the significantly ginormous, neon flashing sign on your head that says, "WIDOW" or "WIDOWER"? Will he/she ask about it? Will you tell? Will you say something before they have a chance to ask? Will they freak out about it? What about if you cry? Will they freak out about that? Will they accept the situation or not? How will you handle this with your children? Will you listen to advice from married friends? Family? Other single people? Other single parents? Your religion? What is appropriate and what isn't? Left or right? Up or down? Black, white, or nuanced shades of grey? I'm so glad you don't have anything else going in your life so you can devote all your time to figuring out these questions... oh wait a minute...!!!

Now do you guys understand why this blog is called, "One More Thing"?!? :)

Let's fastforward to your wedding day. You have taken innumerable careful steps leading up to this day. You've come a long way from still feeling like a spouse who's waiting on their other half to return to them to a completely separate, independent individual who is strong and evolved enough to know when they are ready to fall in love and bond with someone again. Thinking about a life and a future without your newly betrothed spouse is unimaginable, and you marvel at how lucky you are to have found this love and acceptance in this person. You have wonderful plans of raising children and growing old together when something begins to stir, almost like the beginnings of a sneeze deep inside your head, but this is in your heart. You think, "Wait a minute, this sounds familiar..."



What you've done is transformed: you have felt like this squishy, awkward caterpillar feeling its way around a garden, trying to find some sustenance upon which to survive. You gathered your strength, spun your cocoon, and emerged as a completely new creature -- beautiful, graceful, and free. You don't feel bound by such gravity any more. You are light and basking in the warm sun.

THE BOTTOM LINE(S)

It was one thing to decide I wanted to date again. It was another thing to actually go out and date people, socialize, put yourself in an emotionally vulnerable position. It was one thing to meet an amazing man that put a smile back into my heart. It was another thing to completely give it over to him and trust him not to break it after coming through so much. It was one thing to tell T. goodbye and soldier on these last 4 1/2 years, knowing we would high-five each other again in the presence of the Lord. It was another thing to allow myself to fall in love again and not worry about feeling as though I was betraying T. It was one thing to say "yes" to R. when he proposed and get excited about making wedding plans. It was another thing to look into R.'s sparkling, gentle blue eyes, say my vows to him, slip the ring on his finger, and become his wife. When I walked with my sweet Dad down the aisle, praise Jesus, I did not feel as though I was walking away from T. I felt like I was running full force toward R., and that right next to him was exactly where I belonged. Standing there looking at him, I wasn't aware of anyone else in the room with us -- all I could see was soft light coming in through stained glass windows and flickering on candles, framing his sweet, smiling face. As the kids clambered between us and and we had our nuptial smooch, I felt like I had something new, yet something I sort of had all along: our family.



I started noticing something the day I picked up my gown. Real love is not to be taken for granted. It is a rare and precious thing. I hear R.'s voice on the phone, or I say something to someone about "my husband," and I'm reminded of this. I pray that it's something I never forget. I also hope I never forget where I've been, the hopelessness and lonliness I felt, the awkwardness and feeling disconnected that set in sometimes. I wasn't completely pessimistic about my life, but it's hard to be truly happy in life when things just aren't right. I hope I never forget the kinds of advice not to give. I hope my friends and family will know someday how thankful I am that they didn't give up on me even when I was feeling fairly tormented at the time. I hope I haven't damaged my poor, sweet children, who I know are gifts from God that have given me purpose in life. (Embarassed? Yes, and I'll likely do it again. Damaged, hopefully not!)



NERVOUS NEWLYWED?!?



I'll be honest. This all seems too good to be true. Is that pessimistic or negative of me? Does it communicate a deep-seated distrust of God and therefore underdeveloped spirituality? Maybe, but quite frankly I'm not interested in a psycho-theological explanation here. I remember I was completely stressed out with breastfeeding with my second child because of dire complications I had with my first. Until we got past that point I was a stress bucket. After that it was smooth sailing. My neighbor/friend/consultant also did a great job to reassure me and restore some of my confidence.



I think this is where prayer will prove quite helpful for me. My nerves began to fray a little bit, admittedly, on our honeymoon. We were preparing to fly over to see some friends the following day before we came back home. Some of these friends are some of the most precious people I've had the privilege to know, having come alongside me and ministered to me through music, laughter, and friendship during losing T. After I got off the phone with one of my friends and started remembering all those tough times she loved me through, I nearly had an anxiety attack. What had I done?!? I went off and got married again!!! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Don't you know all this is going to happen again and you're going to be left with a twice-broken heart?



I just stuffed it and put it out of mind. We had a great time the last couple of days, came home, and started back into the daily grind. But the night before R. left to go home, I just couldn't hold it in any longer. I cried almost as hard that night as he just held me as I had the day T. died. I will admit: it almost makes me throw up spontaneously to think about R. dying and being gone. I have come through so much to be at this point in my life. My understanding of life and love is so much more profound than it was ten years ago. At the hotel I had looked at his shaving items there by the sink and heard him talking on the phone in the room and then envisioned it all gone, and I just wanted the earth to swallow me up.



I know I won't always be this panicky about him dying. God has proven to be faithful to God's word time and time again to me. I hate being worried at a time of renewal in my life, when so many great things are starting to happen for us. I hate that grief is like an ugly tattoo that is with you, whether or not anyone else can see it. But I do love him and can't imagine not being his "SP". What is most important to me is that he loves me as I am, crazy and worried and energized all at the same time. I just want to take each moment, with God's help, and cherish it -- with him, with our children, with each new step in life. I could waste away my days in tears of this thing I fear so much, or I could choose to take advantage of the time we have. I will not lose heart; I choose to be of good courage.



"I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait on the LORD; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart. Wait, I say, on the LORD!" -- Psalm 27:13-14