Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Day 63 Birthays and BBQ's
Both of my parents were in the Air Force, along with one of my grandfathers. My other grandfather was in the Army. I was going to join the Air Force until I was told, rather bluntly, that I wouldn't never make it. At the time I let the comments affect my decisions so I never joined up. I met my husband when he was active duty and we married a few years later. I was prepared for a life as a military wife. Much more so than I realized at the time.
We went to a friend's house for a BBQ. He recently got out of the Navy and his birthday is this week. Another friend's birthday is also next week. He's still active duty. So it was Memorial Day/Birthday/Birthday BBQ Potluck. We took fruit salad since the hosts were planning on making several racks of smoked ribs.
The kids played in the yard while the adults sat and chatted. The conversation ranged from one topic to another in a nice relaxed rhythm. As the hours passed by the birthday boys opened their gifts and the conversations divided into smaller groups as people moved around the yard. There was no pressure to be right, no anxiety over the way we looked or acted. It was just a group of friends. For me it was surreal.
Eventually it was time for the littler ones to go to bed, so we said our goodbyes and headed home. Later that night I hit a trigger that I hadn't realized. I seem to be finding them more often now. Tim was patient and held me until I cried myself out. After that he settled me into bed to sleep. It's amazing how emotionally exhausting these episodes can be. I drifted off pretty quickly - much to my surprise.
Wife of a Native, Mum to the Spawn. I don't fit in a box, literally or figuratively. I don't have a label. I can't be cataloged. My life is a combination of all that defines me. Wife, Mum, Writer, Reviewer, Critic, Photographer, Business Owner and Crafter. Advocate for common sense and collector of names.
To find out more about my writing, photography, reviews or life in general, check out my blog at http://www.NancyCWalker.com