the journey

An unabridged version of what I had tried to post as my fb status today:

‎Two of my closest childhood friends are each getting married today. There are few things about military life that I have open grievances about (I fully understand that compared to SO many who have gone before us in genrations past, Philip & I have it SO EASY) but missing out on days like today is hard. Quincy McNeil & Miranda Bischoff and Michael Maxwell & Sarah Schwartz, I wish you a lifetime of love and happiness. I'm so sad and so incredibly sorry I can't be with you today.

UNDOUBTEDLY the most difficult aspect of military life is separation from my spouse.  It's horrible and I hate it.  But I try really hard not to whine about it because I know it could be worse (there are plenty of families who have 15 month deployments with just a few months inbetween before it's another 15 months apart. . . when I think about the fact that Philip and I have gotten to Skype fairly frequently during this deployment I think about what it would have been like in WW2 to get a postcard every couple of months during a separation that went on for YEARS).  *mind you I was NOT impressed when one of my aunts commented at Christmastime to Philip about the length of his deployment being "not that bad" --- civilians should NEVER make comments like that.  EVER*

I hate hate hate being apart from Philip.  But I know it's part of the deal.  I signed up for it.  I accept it.  But at the end of the day, strain on family will always be the most difficult part of this lifestyle.  ***okay, the worst part of this life is living with the threat, fear and reality that something really really horrible could happen to the person you love more than anyone or anything on this earth - usually I keep this buried, but the reality is that as long as my husband has a career where sometimes his office is a combat zone this looms in my consciousness***

Not having control over where I live and not living in one place for very long are a close second and third when it comes to "least favorite things about military life".  Goodbyes are also hard, but I try to really be positive about the fact that I will have the opportunity to meet SO MANY amazing people in my lifetime. 

But today I felt another one of the "costs" of military life:  missing important events in the lives of people who matter to you.  Today was the day that two of my closest friends growing up each had their weddings.  I know I've mentioned the small town thing affecting why I really was wanting to be there for the events, but I spent time thinking about why these two people aren't just "people I used to go to school with" and why I cared so much I couldn't celebrate with them today.

I've decided that in different chapters of life, there are a handful of significant peers who walk alongside us on that part of our journey (bare in mind in every season for me, family members area always a given and always the most important).  These friends won't neccessairly be the people we are closest and most deeply connected tofor the rest of our lives, but nothing can ever negate the experience that was shared during that time.  I think that in England  "my people" have been Matt & Jana Allen, the Gidlow family and Suzie Walker.  In college I was impacted deeply by my friendship with Hannah Pratt, Kari Reese and Shannon Klingen (who still comprise, along with Lori Pankratz, my "pray for me right now - it's urgent!" email list. . .  college was the first time that I could finally connect w/ people on a common faith level which was massive - England relationships have been like that as well).

I would say that from the ages of 12-18 "my people" were Tabitha Wetzel, Quincy McNeil, Sarah Schwartz & Dain Kalkbrenner.    Two of the people on that list had one of the biggest days of their lives today.  I guess it makes sense that I was a bit dissapointed that I couldn't be there.

Sarah. Of my Four from this era of my life, I have had the least contact and probably have drifted the most from Sarah. However, her wedding day is a big deal to me. Why? Sarah and I had the similar "I want to be beautiful" struggles throughout adolescence and our teenage existence. We were not the girls who turned all of the guys' heads (thought it's probably safe to say that today we probably have healthier bodies/less hang-ups/ more fufilling romantic relationships that many of the "really attractive" girls we went to school with). We were friend-only material (which I now see as a complete blessing as I was able to go into my marriage with no regrets or emotional baggage). We were smart girls. We were musical girls. We were not The Pretty Girls (though I'm convinced that come 10 year reunion time in a few years, we will be a couple of the most smokin girls in the room ;)
While my life was dominated by a desire to be thinner, Sarah was desperate to have more curves on her petite, Ally McBeal frame. While the anguish of body image issues were never anything you'd wish on your worst enemy, Sarah and I were able to understand and relate on a level that didn't exist in many other relationships we had during that period of our lives.

Sarah was the only non-family member who ever came with me to therapy. It's interesting to think of why she would have been the person I asked to come on the joint appointment with a friend that had been suggested by my psychologist. I guess at the end of the day she got it. She could always see through my performance and charade. She knew that I was hurting. Constantly. More than I would ever let on to the world.

Sarah and I spent years singing together and getting lost in becoming other people as we reveled in the world of theatre throughout junior high and high school.  Over the years, there were many girl movies and lots of sleep overs (I recall the night she, Carolyn and I decided we wanted to be "rebels" and sneak out of the Starz house to walk down to Acton Woods.  Three little goody two shoes - we thought we were pretty cool.  Pretty pathetic was more like it. . . ha ha ha)  There was much hysterical laughter.   I convinced her to be my partner in forensics my senior year. She was a natural. She went on to study communication as her undergraduate. She was an active (and VERY successful) competitior in collegiate forensics. She went straight from her B.A. into her Master's.  She taught university courses by the age of 23.

Sarah is going to continue to go far. I always knew she would.

Sarah is beautiful. I always knew she was.

I hope that today, on her wedding day, she feels like a princess and can catch a glimpse of the radiance that I've always seen when I looked at her. She is the most beautiful woman in the world to a man named Michael Maxwell.  A man who promised this afternoon to spend the rest of his life at her side. It is my hope and prayer that today, on HER DAY, she can rest and revel in her beauty. I really wish I could be there with tears in my eyes that she's always been stunning and I've always known that Michael was out there. She deserves this day of happiness more than very few people I've ever known in my life.

Sarah (and my little 7th grade boobs pictured left) on the last day of 7th gr. history class

Sarah, Carolyn, Joy - we sang together for five years

senior year speech - we were probably looking for the two Melrose boys who made our hearts flutter that spring. . . .

practicing speech.  we had too much fun.  i love this girl.  always will.

Quincy.  Quincy and I go back to 3rd grade.  I remember when he moved to our school district.  Quincy loathed me.  Detested me. He found me to be the bane of his existence: a prissy, snobby, teacher's pet. Personally, I found him to be an irritating whiner.  He was a nuisance.   I, in my infinite 8 year-old girl wisdom, was not the least bit  impressed with this chubby, very immature boy who came to school in sweatpants every day.  I'll never forget the HORRIBLE day in 3rd grade when he looked over his shoulder and saw me pick my nose and proceed to eat my booger.  He never let me forget it.  Very traumatic.  I decided that he was just plain and simply an awful boy.    Unbenownst to me at the time, he would go home on a daily basis and complain to his parents about how awful I was.  His dad would laugh and warn him that we would probably end up being good friends. He was appalled at such a thought.

In junior high we had each grown up a little bit and could be civil in each other's presence.  We were hanging around with the same group of people and ended up having a lot of classes together (which is where Dain entered the scene because he was in class with us) in 8th grade.  The three of us did crazy school projects together (many very interesting videos for our science class along w/ our friend Emily).  I had to be the one to inform the two adolescent morons in their ignorance about the mechanics of a tampon.  I became the neutral consultant on all things involving their girl issues and crushes (this carried on through high school, actually).  In 8th grade I started "dating" (in the VERY pathetic way that junior high students attempt to have a "relationship") his best friend Jason (who is a groomsmen in the wedding today!) and he was "going out" with my good friend Carolyn.  The memories forged during this time (like his dad driving us on our first "double date" to see "Cruel Intentions") are priceless.

I think I've finally started to figure out what part of what made my friendships w/ these four individuals significant.  They were the people at my side at a VERY formidible and tumultous time in my life.  They were each at my side before I was ill, as I wasted away before their eyes, and they hung in there with me as I spent years clawing my way out of my very own personal hell on earth.

Quincy and I never talked about the food stuff tons (boys rarely know quite what to say about the topic no matter how close you are or how much they care or are concerned), but he was aware of what was going on and never minced his words on the occasions we did discuss what was going on.  This had an impact on me.  I remember, years later, Quincy recalling how absolutely horrifying it was to see me the summer before we started our freshman year.  He didn't know quite how to handle that I looked so ghastly but carried on talking and laughing like the person he had always known.  I also never forgot a conversation we had the summer before we left for college.  He understood that I tied "thin" with "attractive" in a a warped way and this was disconcerting to him.  We somehow got on the topic of the food stuff and were talking about leaving in a few weeks and he looked me in the eye and said point blank to me, "Joy, don't go and do anything stupid.  No guy wants to f*** a skeleton."  I know it's language that my mother definitely wouldn't approve of, but I never ever forgot him saying that.  Though I never talked about it with either of them tons, it was a huge deal for me to have two male friends who were with me through thick and thin (literally) during all of my eating stuff - it challenged this deep seeded notion that I could never be accepted or valued (much less desired) by the opposite sex unless I looked a certain way - which was something that had become central to my struggle.

Relationships w/ the opposite sex obviously change dramatically when one or both parties get married.  Emotional boundaries are very different.  But some thing will never change.  Quincy and I do still bicker like brother and sister sometimes (especially when he starts telling Philip embarrassing stories about me growing up) when we're together.  I called him this morning to check in, congratulate him and wish him well and told in my "sisterly" fashion that the reason I really wanted to be there today was to wish Miranda good luck because she'll need it to put up with him for the rest of her life.   We'll always say and do things that will make the other roll his/her eyes,  but at the end of the day his dad was right. . .   I'm looking forward to a lifetime of friendship between the Lere & McNeil families :)

quincy and i in a play in 8th grade.  oddly enough, the picture represents our friendship quite well.  at least the early days of it. . . .

this picture was taken the day that quincy told me years later he was absolutely horrified when he saw me

prom junior year (no we didn't go together).  undoubtedly THE MOST HELLISH year of my life (namely because I struggled to have any desire to continue to be alive at that weight - regardless, through an extended absence at school and my continued struggle everyone remained faithfully at my side when i returned that spring)

i edited his papers.  he helped me with math.  fair trade.

we made it!  may 2003

*naturally I have better pictures with both of these individuals but these are just spares that I had in a folder with me in England. . . the good ones are in albums, but this at least gives you a rough blast-from-the-past glimpse into this chapter of life that we all did together*