Wednesday, August 5, 2015

The Post-Moving Blues

PCS season. It's the best of times, it's the worst of times.

Most people shed their proverbial (or sometimes literal) tears at the destination they're leaving. They look in the rearview mirror, snap a photo, and tear up at the the good memories and friends they are leaving behind.

For me, however, the tears are on the other end.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm happy to leave an assignment but I think the excitement of a new place pushes me past the sadness. My mind spins with the "bucket list" of things to do at our new destination, where the furniture will fit, etc. But then, the blues set in.

The household goods are delivered and unpacked. The walls are decorated with familiar photos and decor. I've learned how to get to the grocery store and Target. And everything else is new. New friends, new school, new church, new gym, new hairstylist, new doctor, new dentist, new times for the kids' activities... THAT is what brings me to tears. Suddenly, the schedule we honed at our previous post no longer works.  My usual "lifeline" -- the local spouses' club -- is a no-go this time around because my son's preK is right in the middle of the events. Two of the three activities my daughter has selected are nearly back-to-back on the same day, as is my son's one sport, and both run though our usual dinner time.

It becomes overwhelming. The stress builds. My temper gets shorter. Flutters race through my heart. I feel alone (even though this time I have a great friend who lives nearby).

And I cry.


Wednesday, February 4, 2015

What this MilSpouse wants you to know

With all of the ISIS and other acts of terror going on in the world, my facebook feed often has sentiments like these:

"We should just kill them all."
"Let's invade [country]?"
"Why aren't we doing anything?"

As a MilSpouse, these statements make me shudder because if any of those 'wishes' were to be granted, it could be my husband, or the spouse of one of my friends or neighbors to fulfill the task. 

"But your husband was deployed recently, surely he won't go" may be your reply. Let me tell you -- It doesn't matter what rank, where you're stationed, or what job you're doing -- there's always the chance the phone will ring, calling you for another deployment. 

I've watched friends' spouses return from deployment, just to be transferred to anoth unit and head back out the door again. Another six months or more of being separated from family, risking your life, and possibly coming home different than when you left. And then there's the emotional and sometimes physical toll on the ones left behind. 

So the next time something awful happens, post you're mad. Say it's terrible. But please, unless you're volunteering for the mission, please don't play President.