Who Cares?

I grew up in a small town, and went to the same school all 13 years. I made friends in kindergarten, and for the most part, we were all still together at graduation. Some new kids came in throughout the years, and that was fine, because I was secure and comfortable in my lifelong spot. I never realized that I didn't know how to make friends. I was GREAT at making friends! A new kid came in, and I was always showing them around, inviting them to stuff, inviting them to sit at my table at lunch (you know how intimidating lunchrooms are in school!) I had no problem making friends.
Then I went to college. Holy crap, what a shocker! I had never BEEN the new kid before. Granted, we were freshmen, so we were all the new kid, but that didn't register to me. All I knew was that everyone else seemed totally comfortable and I was scared to death. The details of the AWFUL homesickness and the craziness I put my parents through are another post--another BOOK--to themselves, but to sum it up, I remember telling my dad "I just wish ONE TIME someone would invite me to eat with them in the cafeteria." I didn't eat one single meal with another person that entire year. My dad kept telling me that there had to be 100 other girls sitting in their rooms wishing the same thing, and I should just go invite THEM to eat. I didn't ever do it.
So, gradually I learned to be comfortable there, and I once in a while would reach out to someone else. Not very often, and my biggest regret about college is that I didn't try harder to make a network of friends. I spent way more time alone than I had to.
Anyway--fast forward. I marry a guy in the Army. We move all the time. Apparently, he and the army are not aware of this aversion I have to being the "New Kid." They decide it is a good idea to do that every few years! FUN FUN! But, as they say, "God has a plan." Perhaps the loneliness of college was meant to prepare me for this life. When I moved to our first duty station--I was completely ready to crawl right back into that hole of "no one to eat with in the cafeteria." I had S, but he was deploying right away--so now what?
Fortunately for me, another new wife, Janet, had already learned, or perhaps was born with, the ability to reach out--even if she was new too. The first time I met her, she invited me to go work out with her at the gym. Instantly, I remembered my dad telling me to go invite someone else to go eat. So--with my dad's words in my ears and the reminder and encouragement of Janet's invitation, I set my mind to reaching out.
I still HATE to be the new kid. Every time we move I am truly truly miserable for several weeks. I think this move may have been the worst so far, but when you keep your eyes open, you find the opportunity to reach out and meet someone. Three weeks after we got here, I met L. when I overheard the kindergarten teacher telling her what to put in the kids' lunches. I immediately marched over and (after apologizing for eavesdropping) basically accosted her, found out she had just moved here (from Dallas, no less) and that she had 4 kids--two of whom are the ages of N. and R! So, we are great friends now. What if I had just kept on feeling sorry for myself and not eavesdropping--I mean looking for opportunities to invite someone to the cafeteria?!
So, now I have been here a few months. I don't feel so new. We know our way around the school, recognize a few faces, and have a few acquaintenances that could potentially be friends someday (maybe.) The other day, L. told me about someone that had just moved into my neighborhood. She said "They live across the street from one of C's (her daughter) friends. They are a navy family, they moved in a couple of weeks ago, and the dad deployed about a week after they got here." I said I wanted to go meet them. She said she would find out their name and my answer was typical military wife--"I don't need to know her name. Just tell me where she lives. I'll ask her name when I get there."
So, today I went over there with brownies. She wasn't home, but her 14 year old daughter was, and when the mom got home from soccer with the younger one, they came down to meet us. I had given her my phone number on a card, and she brought hers to me. We talked for a few minutes about the "culture shock" of moving to southern california, and how awful it is to be the new kid. She said her kids, especially her youngest (who at this point was running around the house with N. like a couple of lunatics) hasn't had any kids to play with and she is so lonely. I knew exactly how she feels. It was dinner time, so they didn't stay long. Just enough time to invite them to come down anytime, and to tell them that the boys would be thrilled to have someone close by to play with, and I wouldn't mind a friend up the street either! (Plus, the older two girls are babysitting age!)
Who cares? Will it make any difference to her that I brought brownies from a box and an index card with my phone number to her front door? Maybe, maybe not. Either way--at least she knows someone's face, has a number she can call if she gets really desperate, and maybe she feels a little less new. I hope it doesn't sound like I am bragging on myself, because it is really quite the opposite. I am proud of the fact that I have FINALLY learned that lesson. I am still sad that I didn't learn it sooner and make better use of my years in school, but now I do look for opportunities to invite someone else to the cafeteria! Special thanks to my dad (who has given me more good advice over the years than I can possibly list) and to the world of the army wife that has reinforced that advice! Now I just have to work on being able to do it when I am still feeling like the "new kid!"