who's your reason

It used to be a way of life, but somewhere in the past 70 years it became a day of celebration, and then a day off. Today, I ask you to join me in returning to remembrance and appreciation - for our veterans.

It's amazing to think that many of us aren't sure who to celebrate or thank today. Yet I'm pretty sure you know a veteran... maybe several. They were part of your graduating class. Many have gone to wars, and most have come home. They work beside you, worship with you, raise children with yours, and live just around the corner. They park next to you at the grocery store, hang out at your favorite coffee shop, and bring business to your workplace. They are friends on your facebook page, read your blog, and their number is on your caller ID.

They may also be perfect strangers, covered in a dark and damp blanket as you scurry in and out of errands.

They have served our country in times of peace and times of war. The work that qualifies one as "veteran" was, and often still is, their job and calling. Today, your job is to find them and thank them.

I know the veteran I honor today. My brother has recently departed for his third war effort. He is the kid who made us all laugh while growing up. He's the guy who dazzled on the soccer field, and whose smile could work his way out of most trouble. Smart and witty, talented and tenacious. DJ has always been loyal to his friends, loved his dog, and let his heart endure pain as it hung on his sleeve. While still all of this, he's also an honored and capable veteran. This time, he's off to a different location with same goals: do his job well, come home safely. He will join the thousands there, thousands who've just come home, and thousands who will go when he returns. They are willing, ready and able. They will rise above news feeds and poll numbers to serve, defend and protect freedom.

My brother's wife and children will serve with him, too, though they won't leave home. They quietly and steadfastly offer their own sacrifices. They will once again try to keep their focus on school, home, work, and family. They will also support other families who miss their veteran for the first time, and celebrate the others who come home before DJ. As a collection, military families like my brother's offer all of us a glimpse of work ethic, grace, and humility that might otherwise go unnoticed, if not for a day like today.

I know support for a veteran's work is linked inextricably with the politics of the moment. Yet many have served in order that we might live with freedom in this time. Many have sacrificed so that our sacrifices might be over paychecks and new comforts, rather than over life and freedom. They risk their life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness in order to ensure these remain available to all. Perhaps for just a moment, we can all lay down our opinions over healthcare, wall street, unions, or personalities and just be thankful.

Today, I honor my brother, DJ, and his deployment during the months to come. Who is your reason to celebrate Veterans Day?

why are you here

"I think I'm going to become a stay-at-home mom," I declared to a few people this morning. Some of them were puzzled, while others some could relate to my sentiments. What does it mean, anyway, to be a "stay-at-home" parent?

Whatever prompted it, I'm back in a season of critically thinking about my life and purpose. Perhaps it's the feeling that life is zipping by at an unparalleled pace. Or the words of a mentor earlier this week, reminding me that I really won't remember all of these details of life, and it's worth a few seconds to write (or blog) them down. Perhaps it's that I'm working part-time and bringing home a small income. Or maybe it was the rush of happiness I got when I cancelled out of a meeting this morning to stay home and bake cookies with my 4 year old.

In any case, I set out to enjoy my job today. I made my family a good breakfast. We walked to school in the morning, taking in the autumn crispness and good exercise. I made oatmeal-raising-craisin-chocolate-chip cookies with Obi-2, and sat down to write stories with him. After taking Obi-2 to pre-K, I joined Obi-1 in the cafeteria for lunch (a weekly tradition we've started on the day I volunteer in his class). He's always happy to see me, as are many of his friends, who scoot over on their little bench so I can sit with them. I smiled, thinking warmly of the impact stay-at-home parents can make in the little (and big) lives around them.

And then I faced the honest inquisition and quit wit of kindergartners. Over our sandwiches, the kid across the table looked at me, squinted his eyes, and said, "Why are you always here?" Conversation stopped at the table. Earnest little eyes stared up at me, eager for an answer. I searched for the right, concise reply to show them that they are loved and valuable, even to those who aren't paid to spend time with them. In the moment I paused to think, an answer rang out beside me.

"Because she doesn't have a job."

Ouch. The words may have come from a 5-year-old, but they stung with the fortitude of looks, back-handed compliments, and outright criticisms I have received from so many adults. All of the challenges in articulating what I do started to creep in and spoil my day. I reeled, and meekly replied, "this is part of my job."

It didn't matter. The darling girl next to my son had answered the question to everyone's satisfaction. Everybody, that is, except me. In an effort to force myself to have a sense of humor, I texted her quip to my husband and a couple friends (who were all at work). Surely this would prove funny to me in the future.

My phone rang with a message; a friend whose marriage is struggling needed an ear for a couple minutes. Without noticing that this, too, is part of my work, I excused myself from the rest of lunch and stepped out to take the call. After volunteering my Friday evening to help with childcare for their family, I returned to help in the kindergarten classroom, sounding out words like "car" and "green" with children who struggled to stay seated around their little tables. Later, I moved into the pre-K class to draw circles of glue and shake glitter over shape cutouts.

All the while, I felt a bit deflated, like I wasn't sure it mattered as much as the time of somebody working in a cubicle or corner office. Why was I here? Wasn't I busy with real work? Didn't I have something to do?

All of my answers seemed hollow, and I was stewing over it because a 5-year-old said I didn't have a job. Well, that, and because so many friends, family, and perfect strangers have said or implied the same.

After school, I headed to the car with the boys and checked my phone. I realized I had missed a reply from my husband, shortly after I sent him that little boy's question and little girl's reply. It just took a moment, and I smiled with tears. He gets me and my job, even when I don't.

So kid, why am I there all the time?

"because she loves her kids so much that she'd rather be with them in a noisy cafeteria than do anything else for any amount of money."