The Things We Don’t Talk About
We recently PCS’d- which is fancy way of saying we moved. If you’re not familiar with the PCS term it means permanent change of station. We were in one state for a few years and the military decided it was our time to pack up, travel a few hundred miles, and call a new place our home.
When I first married my husband and we PCS’d for the first time it was a very surreal feeling. We went to a place that was so very different than what I was used to. On top of the laundry list of things I could list off that was wrong with that place, I also couldn’t find a job (hey military spouses I see you) and I was so far away from everyone I knew and loved.
It was a slap in the face I wasn’t prepared for.
As we’ve moved more, I don’t think that slap in the face ever truly leaves.
You get used to a place. You call it home. You find friends. You have a favorite grocery store, a favorite coffee place, you know the farmer in the next town over where you buy your eggs from. The little corner deli is your favorite sandwich shop and on Saturday’s in the summer is the farmer’s market downtown. During Christmas there’s a parade you love to attend and the town glimmers with lights and decorations abound.
Then your spouse gets orders.
It’s time to move again.
The packers pack your stuff up in boxes and all the little numbered tags (if you know you know) are adhered. The truck gets loaded up and all your stuff is sent to the new place. You say a quick prayer all the things end up in that new place and then your family leaves.
You’ve done this before. It’s not new, but it feels new.
This new place we moved to doesn’t feel like home. All the faces are new. The street signs are different. The library isn’t what I expected it to be. The grocery store is something I’ll have to learn to love. The farmer’s market is adorable but still not what I was used to for three years. The corner shop isn’t a deli and I have to drive out of my way to get to Costco. Most of all, I’m far away from the people who I called my best friends. The closest one is still eight hours away.
The truth be told is all of this is overwhelming. Whether we admit it out loud or not. It is full of anxiety and sadness no matter how you shake it. Where ever you land your two feet at is the place you’re expected to thrive at.
We don’t talk about the hard because it’s not supposed to be this hard. We are supposed to be people who can move in a blink of an eye. We are supposed to always know to go with the flow and the changing of the tides.
But I also know that no matter how hard it is in the moment, it gets easier.
Slowly.
Without you ever realizing.
Quietly, the house you moved into a few months prior you’re calling home now. You actually have more friends a lot more quickly in your new place than at your last base. You found a favorite coffee shop, a favorite grocery store, and met a new farmer with eggs and honey you get every week now. The farmer’s market is still on Saturday’s downtown and I haven’t missed a Saturday yet. I’ve heard the downtown area is a Hallmark town during the holidays and I cannot wait to take my children there to experience that magic that we will only be able to find there. Costco really doesn’t seem too far away now and I decided sandwiches are actually served better on my own sourdough bread.
Nonetheless, the sinking feeling that was once overwhelming will leave.
It doesn’t last forever and you slowly forget that feeling while you’re living where you’re living at.
Then one day a year or three down the road your spouse gets orders…..and you know how the rest of the story goes.