The logistics of being thankful

It feels appropriate to prepare for Thanksgiving this week for a number of reasons, and we each have our own.

The Naval Academy recently completed Service Selection, which is the same as Job Drops at USAFA. Why is it so much later than Navy? Who can tell? Sometimes I think they do things a bit differently just to do things a bit differently.

Regardless, the reaction on my Facebook feed is the same, no matter the academy. Firsties finding out what they will do after commissioning causes a flood of photos of smiling faces coupled with the effusive excitement of parents – “he/she got her dream job,” “he/she got a coveted [insert service line here],” “he/she has been dreaming about this since they were a little kid.”

So much to be thankful for.

But as I noted in a recent Facebook post, not every Firstie got their first choice. Or second choice. Or third choice.

The impact can be overwhelming. And scrolling through that stream of “dream come true” posts can be soul crushing. Hard as it is to believe, almost all of them recover, embrace their new path, and are thankful for the opportunity.

I’ve learned that this, like so many things we experience as an academy parent, is all part of our training. The academies don’t craft these lessons for us, but they strike home. And they teach us to be thankful.

Over the past several years, I’ve learned to ride the roller coaster and roll with the punches. I’ve built up expectations (some admittedly unrealistic) only to see the “needs of the [Navy/Air Force]” reduce them to rubble. I’ve picked up the pieces, constructed new expectations that underwent a series of adjustments only to arrive in a much different form than expected.

Now with one academy graduate and another Second Class, the process continues with slight variations.

In May of 2022, we engineered an extended time together with my submariner joining me in Colorado to spend time with his sister. We hiked Rocky Mountain National Park, caught up on a thousand things, and generally just spent time together. Our plans to all connect the following March for an Air Force basketball game so we could see our girl cheer fell apart on both ends, resulting in my spending a rather quiet night alone in Colorado Springs. Nevermind, we responded with plans to recreate our May excursion with an expeditoon to Arizona, visiting some favorite spots and just reconnecting.

Well, you probably know the plot. After months of planning, my son’s off crew got shortened and by the time Catie and I met at Phoenix’s Sky Harbor Airport, he was long gone, location and depth unknown. Another “make the best of it” moment.

Undaunted, we eyed up this past weekend. It was Air Force’s last home football game and Noah should be stateside by now … he still hadn’t seen her do the cheer thing. So we forged ahead but upon his return, he learned that he would begin another round of heavy duty nuclear training the week before. I closed my eyes, counted to 10, and just repeated, “plan for the worst, hope for the best.”

It wasn’t until after we solved an incorrectly booked flight and got confirmation late Wednesday that it looked like the stars would align. And, as described above, it arrived in a slightly different form than expected. The initial plan was for Noah and I both to arrive Friday morning, do some hiking (which he dearly missed), then pick up Catie after her basketball game that evening. We would then watch her in action at the football game and enjoy the rest of the evening together. I envisioned the three of us enjoying a quiet Sunday breakfast before Noah and I headed back East.

Not quite.

I arrived early Friday morning – early as in boarding a flight at 5:30 a.m., but Noah wouldn’t be arriving until late that afternoon. OK, so time to adjust. I meandered out to Boulder, hung out at Colorado University (a comfortable spot to take advantage of some free wi-fi and catch up on emails) and found what looked to be an interesting drive and hiking trail. For the record, Lost Gulch Overlook is worth the time if you’re in the neighborhood.

The clock finally cooperated and it was time to pick up Noah and enjoy the type of hug you can only enjoy after a deployment. The drive to Colorado Springs was miserable – Friday in the heart of rush hour. Nonetheless, it was also perfect giving us a chance to catch up and details of the deployment we hadn’t discussed and life in general. Emails, phone calls, and texts simply cannot replace sitting next to or across from someone and talking.

Then, finally, we arrived at USAFA. We sat in a parking lot, looking toward Cune Arena, waiting for our favorite cheerleader. She arrived and I was witness to a hug some 18 months in the making. Because of the scuttled plans we made in May, they hadn’t seen each other since May of 2022 and while they aren’t exactly they type of brother and sister that share every detail of their lives with each other, they are close in their own way. So they hugged perhaps a little longer than normal, Noah lifting her off her feet for a moment, saying “it’s so good to see you.”

In a perfect world, the three of us would spend the next two days together but as an Academy parent, you learn to adjust to your kids’ schedules while being thankful for every moment.

When I visit Catie for a weekend, I like to cook but given our limited time together, we decided to eat out, which gave us more time to talk. As we settled into the spacious house we rented, the two of them began goofing around a, as evidenced by Noah using a certain voice he employed when messing with her and she, as she almost always does, began giggling uncontrollably. The sight and sounds warmed my heart. All of us were exhausted, so Friday ended early. I went to sleep with a smile, knowing both kids were nearby.

There would be no communal breakfast, as Cate and I grabbed a breakfast smoothie (something of a tradition for us) on our way to drop her at the football stadium. I grabbed a bagel sandwich for Noah as I returned, which he happily ate before heading to a nearby gym for a quick workout. Then he and I found our way to Garden of the Gods for a quiet hike. Hiking out West is something we both love – we’ve done the Grand Canyon to Phimont’s Baldy Mountain) and it was another chance to have the kind of father-son chats you hope to have even when your son is an adult. Like so many moments, it was one I had waited for quite a while.

We made our way to the stadium and Noah got to see Catie cheer for the first time. Yes, this was her third season but the first time he was there to see it. That’s the way schedules work when your kids are in the military. The Air Force football team didn’t impress him but his sister’s display did, eliciting “wow” more than once. He managed to meet one of the exchange students from the Naval Academy, too. When the game ended, we made our way to the field for a photo I had been hoping to capture for a few years.

We ate dinner at Cate’s favorite pizza place and it would later occur to me that this would be my Thanksgiving dinner. On the official holiday, we would be scattered across the country, but on this day, this chilly Saturday in Colorado Springs, I would have my most important people around a table.

That evening, computer geek Noah connected his laptop to the television and we took turns playing an absolutely ridiculous game. If you had showed me Party Animals before and suggested spending the last evening with my kids playing it, I would have scoffed. But it ended up being perfect. We laughed and played, played and laughed. We munched on snacks and played and laughed some more. Finally, knowing Noah had a 2:30 a.m. wakeup call for an Uber that would take him to the airport, we called it quits. We ended the evening with a big group hug, hoping the next one would come much sooner than 18 months.

By the time Cate and I rolled out of bed, Noah was long gone, headed toward a connection in Charlotte that would take him home. We went to one of my favorite breakfast places, did a little shopping (always a favorite for her), then found a quiet spot in Arnold Hall to just talk a bit before she got ready to cheer at a men’s basketball game. I actually met the guy who sang the national anthem before the game and it turns out his wife went to my alma mater. What are the odds? I spent that game mostly looking for the best angle to get photos of her but the clock struck midnight for me at halftime. She ambled into the stands for one last hug and, of course, a picture.

Most trips back to the Denver airport are a mix of gratitude and sadness. This one felt different. With the cruise control and my favorite Spotify playlist engaged, I sailed up I-25 feeling nothing but thankful. It may not have been a Hallmark card, let alone a Hallmark movie, but it was everything I could have hoped for, and the very essence of Thanksgiving, even if it arrived several days early.