I learned many important life lessons as a young wife married to a soldier. There is one that I keep in my heart today. It’s hard being a military man’s wife, having to start over again and again is the hardest part. Trying to make a new place a home isn’t always easy. But one of the most difficult tasks is to make new friends and to leave your last friends behind. It breaks your heart. Everywhere you move you start all over again.
Luckily, being part of a military family means most people you meet will have a lot in common with you. They have all been in many of the same situations you have. They have all had to, or will soon have to, move and start all over again in a new community. Many are missing their families back home. Many are young families. And there are a lot of children!
I was lucky to have met a couple young woman right away that I liked. They couldn’t have been more different from each other, or from me. Different accents, different backgrounds, and extremely different family dynamics. Yet we found many reasons to while away the day… laughing, baking, and just being silly.
When we took the children to the nearby playground, there was one pretty, dark haired woman that, except for her little boy, was always alone. I was curious about her and asked my friends who she was. Everyone I asked seemed to feel that she was really stuck up and didn’t want anything to do with any of the other families on post. I believed them and didn’t pay any more attention to her.
I only had one child at that time and she was the joy of my life. She loved to play outside and it took everything to keep her inside. As the playground was so close, and I could see her from home, I allowed her to go play there by herself. She was very grown up for such a young child. She did know though that the very tall slide was off limits to her. It had rained the night before and there was huge mud hole at the bottom of the slide. My little dare devil just could not resist. I saw her start to climb the stairs, but when I could finally get to her, she was already down that slide and covered from head to toe in red, clay mud. Right behind her on that slide was that quiet woman’s cute little son. Into the mess at the bottom of the slide he landed.
The women and I grabbed our mud slathered, slippery children by the arms to haul them home. As we looked at the children, and then at each other, we both burst out laughing. Even like that they were so darn cute. Somehow between us, we decided the best way to handle this situation was to hose down those two barely recognizable children. By the time those little ones were clean again, they and we were friends.
My dear, sweet friend I will never forget. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for her name. I soon found that she was painfully shy. A move to a new post was agony for her as she watched others become friends. She always just remained on the sidelines. She was funny and bright, and one of the most loving people I would ever meet. There was not a “stuck-up bone” in that woman’s entire body. She taught me a lesson I hope will always stay with me. “Don’t judge a book by the cover” isn’t about books, it’s about people. And don’t let other people persuade me to decide who to become friends with. Figure that out for myself. If it hadn’t been for my little imp of a daughter, my bad judgement would have kept me from meeting one of the most wonderful people in this world. I wept and I wept when the time came to leave her behind. Not remembering her name doesn’t matter. What matters was that she changed my life forever. She helped teach me a very important lesson.
Originally published in Bottom Line News & Views, February 2017