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.
