Butter Bar No More

There is nothing like that feeling a whole family gets with a promotion.  When my engineer traded in his Butter Bars for a single silver bar, I felt like we had come out of purgatory.  My engineer, being 30, did not mix all that well with 22 to 23 year olds.  At last, he was a Butter Bar no more.

His promotion was a very special occasion.  It meant that we had survived.  We had survived our first two years with the military with all of its schools, Jr. High politics, and the make or break early years of marriage.  Despite the USAF, we still loved each other.

The number of mile stones that got hit during those short two years are numerous.  I am talking personal milestones.  My family and friends from my early years will attest to the fact that tact is not something that came naturally to me.  God did not see fit to bless me with a filter already installed...instead He wanted to see me stumble and fall.  I am convinced that He is a huge fan of slap stick, for my own personal blunders as a Butter Bar's wife are billboard proof of it!

It was with great joy that my grandmother told me that my mother was just like me when she was my age.  I had always felt that my mother was the most gracious, diplomatic person I had ever met.  A woman with few words, you HEARD everything she had to say.  When my beloved grandmother told me that my mother was just as blunt as I was in her 20s, I felt like there might be hope for me yet!  Early on in my engineer's military career, I discovered that diplomacy and grace were a must for a peaceable, respected existence. I had my work cut out for me.

My engineer, on the other, has always had a presence.  He walks into a room and people automatically extend deference.  His ability to deliver difficult messages diplomatically quickly earned him respect among his superior officers.  Most of it had to do with the fact that he was 30, not 24.  For me, it was wonderful to no longer see him grouped with the kids straight out of college.  The distance between my engineer and his peers became such that he gave up trying to bridge it.  It was hard for me to see.

The jump from Butter Bar to 1LT is something that happens if you can still draw in a breath.  Unless you thoroughly and completely mess up, you WILL make 1LT.  For us, it was simply a matter of treading water for a couple of years.  My engineer, being the thorough type A personality that he is, always put in 130%...then worried that it wouldn't be good enough.  Over time I saw that, by his willingness to put so much into his work, he set himself up to be completely engulfed in whatever task the USAF felt she couldn't live without.  It wouldn't be until the middle of our next tour that I would receive the advice that would be my magic carpet ride as the spouse of a man in uniform.  But that is for another time.

I will never forget the cupcakes that I baked or the care with which I dressed my baby girl.  Juggling baby, food, and diaper bag, I made my way to the squadron.  People gathered from throughout the squadron to support the step into the next rank.  With great pride, I pinned that silver bar to his shoulder, thinking about all that we had gone through...and all that had changed in our lives.  Our family stood for a simple photograph.  A photograph that marked the next stage in our life as a military family...and the close of the chapter of a Butter Bar Spouse.