If God Should Cross Our Paths
Growing up a military dependent, I moved a lot. In 4th grade alone I went to 3 different schools. Luckily, however, the more typical tour was a move every three years. In that time, I saw there were generally two types of kids: Ones who could form deep bonds within a short period of time and ones who wandered between relationships, not knowing how to go deep. I was the latter.
As a child, I remember seeing kids weep at having to say goodbye to friends on their last day of school and I would think, "I wish I could cry for people." I had to be equipped to say goodbye often and the way I did it was to always keep a part of me for me, a big part. I was a shallow, unreliable friend who always had an eye on my last day, or yours.It just didn't occur to me that I might be capable of more or that I might be a person worthy of going deeper with. It was easier for me to leave people when I didn't think anyone cared. It was easier to leave when I didn't focus on getting left behind by someone else.
Still, it was good life. I met some genuinely nice people and we will share memories that only other military dependents will ever understand. I got to see different parts of the world and those are experiences I will always cherish. As difficult as this lifestyle can be, I've come away from those years with a profound love for each tour and it has shaped who I am today.
Because I found relationships so hard to navigate in my earlier years it's made me determined to do better in more recent years. I don't want it to be easy to say goodbye. I want my friendships to stretch, not break, over time and distance. I want to be worthy of friendship and be a soft place to land when life gets hard. It shouldn't be easy to burn bridges. It shouldn't be easy to just let people go.I am far from the perfect friend but I can tell you this with certainty: When God allows our paths to cross, I will be present with you, you are important to me and I am grateful for you. Your friendship means more to me than you know.
As a child, I remember seeing kids weep at having to say goodbye to friends on their last day of school and I would think, "I wish I could cry for people." I had to be equipped to say goodbye often and the way I did it was to always keep a part of me for me, a big part. I was a shallow, unreliable friend who always had an eye on my last day, or yours.It just didn't occur to me that I might be capable of more or that I might be a person worthy of going deeper with. It was easier for me to leave people when I didn't think anyone cared. It was easier to leave when I didn't focus on getting left behind by someone else.
Still, it was good life. I met some genuinely nice people and we will share memories that only other military dependents will ever understand. I got to see different parts of the world and those are experiences I will always cherish. As difficult as this lifestyle can be, I've come away from those years with a profound love for each tour and it has shaped who I am today.
Because I found relationships so hard to navigate in my earlier years it's made me determined to do better in more recent years. I don't want it to be easy to say goodbye. I want my friendships to stretch, not break, over time and distance. I want to be worthy of friendship and be a soft place to land when life gets hard. It shouldn't be easy to burn bridges. It shouldn't be easy to just let people go.I am far from the perfect friend but I can tell you this with certainty: When God allows our paths to cross, I will be present with you, you are important to me and I am grateful for you. Your friendship means more to me than you know.
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3:33 Art - "You Orchestrated My Escape", August 11, 2010
Michelle, I am enjoying your blog. This one was especially meaningful to me. In Germany, when one of the armor crewman was due to ETS (Estimated Time of Separation) back to the U.S. fellow GI's would go to the bahnhof (train station)and see him off. It was never easy for me. I still exchange Christmas cards with a friend from Oregon. My best friend in the army, a black man, died in Texas at age 55. I tracked another down by telephone and we chatted once. As I type this, there is lump in my throat as a I recall fond times spent with brothers in arms.
ReplyDeleteI never served in the military myself but I agree there is a unique camaraderie that occurs among people who share a unique experience. It grows exponentially when you add danger, uncertainty,a foreign culture and limited familiarity with a new culture. As hard it was for me to maintain relationships, I wouldn't trade those memories for anything.
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