I was sitting with a small group of friends gathered around a table at our neighborhood pool when my daughter swiped apples that were not ours. When I asked what she was doing, in shock at her brazen thievery, she shrugged and smiled at the pretty blonde next to her. “She said we could have anything she brought!” Content with snacks in hand, my daughter skipped off while I apologized to my friend for fruit stealing.
My friend would hear none of my apologies, stopping me before it became too desperate. She was thrilled that her offer of pool treats had been accepted by my second grader. Then she grinned broadly and said, “I like bringing a lot so if it turns into a party, I’m ready.”
For this one day, she had packed more food, iced more drinks, and ordered more pizza than her family could possibly consume in a week. I had already witnessed her offering dry towels to any child shivering from the chilly water. I had taken note when she lovingly threw her arms around a friend’s little girl. And it did not escape me that she kept a seat open and the salsa bowl full so that every neighbor —adult or child— would feel welcome to join the table. My friend was simply happy that everyone around her was taken care of, that no one was lacking. She had been prepared to welcome and entertain even those she did not yet know, and everything was falling into place: it was becoming a party.
It was a classic move of intentional kindness from a seasoned military spouse. We are all well accustomed to moving to a new area, meeting someone in the gas station who shares a mutual friend (or even a mere acquaintance) from a previous post, and dubbing them our children’s emergency contact. But the intentional kindness, couched in the extra steps and care that go into planning for those who might show up, is truly special.
When you have been in this community for a moment, you realize how small the military is. Everyone is connected with only a few degrees of separation between, which makes our world much more intimate. So we make space at the table. We laugh at extra hands grabbing the snacks off the table. And we form deep bonds with incredible people, over and over again with each PCS cycle.
I fully recognize that advice is often not asked for, and that to give it is presumptuous. But if I could humbly pass along any bit of wisdom to the rising generation of spouses, it would be this: Welcome those you do not yet know. Keep a seat open at the table. And have plenty of snacks so if a quiet get-together turns into a party, you’ll be ready. Ready to make friends, ready to break bread.
Ready for a party.
