The Good Stuff

What a day! 

So they say, the bad things you do will always come back to haunt you, and never truly go away.  As if there's some big conspiracy in the stars to make sure you (I) never forget your (my) mistakes.  I can speak to this and say it is true.  I have done things in my life that I am still paying for.  Mistakes that never go away, choices that resonate through the years.  Don't get me wrong, I've made some AMAZINGLY wonderful choices, and for those choices my life is astonishing...but there have been a handful of truly rotten choices I've made too.  The kind of choices that never disappear.  Skeletons in the proverbial closet.  Sometimes when I try to reflect on my life, when people tell me I'm such a good person, when they say I've impacted them in an infinitely positive way, there is always something in the back of my mind that remembers the things I've done wrong and the people I've hurt along the way.  There's always that little voice in the back of my mind that says "I'm a good person...ha that's what YOU think! If you only knew how horribly I treated person XYZ 15 years ago...".  And it's funny, these things never go away.  The thoughts are always there and nagging when someone tries to give me a reminder of why I should love myself.  It's almost as if I'm in this paradoxical struggle to define my own worth and impact to this world and the people in it.

Well let me tell you something.  Tonight I learned that it truly does go both ways.  God loves me, and for that reason He makes sure that every now and then there is a surprising reminder of something good.  I love when He does that.

There's a family on our street with twin boys.  Don has known their Dad for years and years and years.  And years.  They've been in the navy together and known each other since nearly the beginning of time. Or something like that.

Their boys are 8, James is 5.  The boys and James became fast friends.  I was honestly shocked the first time the twins came over to play.  They were so polite, and kind, and respectful.  Quite different from some of the other children in the neighborhood that have come to play.  Don't get me wrong, there are quite a few great kids in our neighborhood, but there are also some that don't seem to have the guidance at home that would teach them what manners and goodness from the start are all about.  It's not the kids' fault that they don't have the leadership they deserve, but it's sad and difficult for me as a Mom to bring these wayward ones into my home and try to start them from scratch, while at the same time expecting more from my own than I expect from their new found friends.  It's not impossible, but definitely difficult.  So back to the twins.  Great kids.  James has been playing with them for a few weeks now, and they're a great influence.  So when they came over tonight and invited James to a sleepover in their tent...I was a hot mess.  This would be James' first official sleepover.  Me under our roof and him under another.  Scary much?  Well duh, Mom.  I said "I don't know, James doesn't really like to go to sleep" (we still battle).  The reply from this sweet boy was "That's ok, we stay up late!  We don't have to go to bed until niiiiine FITTY.".  Seriously cuter than you can even imagine.  So I took the only out that I had and said "I have to talk to his Dad before I can say yes to anything.".  So then they mentioned it to James and I knew I was done for.  Don came home from work and before I knew it, we were committed.  James was going to a sleepover.  I wasn't ready and I said as much...but I didn't really protest, because James was SOOOO excited, and hey they do live on the same street.  The same SIDE of the street even.  So I called their Mom, who I'd actually not met face to face (or so I thought) and made plans to bring my boy and his sleeping bag over at 7pm.  Next thing I knew...it was 7pm.  James and I went down to their house, sleeping bag and flashlight, pillows and snacks in hand.  He was so excited.  The boys' mom opened the door and was so very welcoming.  James and the boys took off outside to the tent, and I stood in the kitchen and watched, while I chatted things up with their mom for a bit.  We brought up how our husbands had known each other for years.  She said (here's where it gets good) - "I've met you before...".  I was clueless.  She said "At Mrs...what was her name...".  In the military world, a "Mrs." is an officers wife, in our case (the nuke world) I knew it would have to be either the Captain or the RO (Reactor Officer).   To make it a little easier, I giggled and said "Which command?" and she said "The Lincoln!".  To which I replied - "I was ombudsman for the Lincoln for 3 years, that's probably where you know me from!".   This amazingly warm and gracious woman then proceeded to tell me about when her husband made the rank of Chief.  That's kind of a big deal in the navy.  Things have a tendency to change once they hit Chief (E-7).   Each year, when the new Chief results come out (at least, back when tradition meant something), all the current Chief, Sr. Chief and Master Chief wives would generally create an opportunity for the "new" Chiefs' wives to get together for a pow-wow and what-the-hell-is-next kind of meeting.  She remembered me from that meeting.  Don was already a Chief, her husband had just made it, and she was new and a little bewildered, maybe even overwhelmed.  She said to me "I remember you - you spoke to me.  You invited me over but we had so much going on with the adoptions..."  They were in the process of adopting two of their 4.  They're great people.  What struck me the hardest was the way she said "You spoke to me."   She remembered that moment - it couldn't have been much more than maybe 10 minutes of our lives.  Years ago.  See, it's hard sometimes for people to understand the bond Chiefs share, the unspoken changes that traditionally come about from a "simple advancement".  The fact that she remembered me, during that tumultuous time of "initiation" into the Goat Locker (a Chief thing), and the new found and again, unspoken expectations of a Chiefs wife...well it can be a bit overwhelming.  But she remembered me, from years ago, as someone that had reached out to her, to help, to assist, to guide and to just be a shoulder.  That was huge.  That IS huge.  And that's something that I will always remember as some of "the good stuff".  The good karma coming back to haunt me.  Maybe it'll be one of those things that I can use in the future to combat the "If you only knew how I treated so and so 15 years ago" moments.  I made a difference for someone.  I made a difference for someone who is amazing and beautiful and real.  I made a difference.  Maybe there's some good in me after all.

And with that being said, I've finally renamed my blog.  Caffeine and Chaos is now officially A Lighthouse in the Storm - because really that's what writing is to me.  But I guess I'll save that explanation for another blog, another day.

Now THAT, my friends...is the good stuff.  Sorry if I rambled a bit - but I suppose even the good stuff deserves some rambling every now and again.