Thursday, May 30, 2013
taking apart the puzzle
As the chaos of PCS'ing threatens to pull me under the words to one of my favorite 80's tunes runs through my head,
"Seven years went under the bridge, like time was standing still. Heaven knows what happens now......" (OMD)
It has become increasingly evident, as we let go of our home here, that we are completely different from the family that moved here in 2005. People talk about journey's coming full-circle, but I can only see this one road that stretches out and there's no way to get back to where it began, even though it seems like just yesterday.
Moving is never without its challenges - and we military people have it down to a science. We're practiced at the process, methodical in our madness, confident in the chaos. The lasts, the goodbyes, the end - it's all just (usually) a step toward the next assignment, the next adventure. We overcome the last minute problems: the car, the pet, or (in my case) contracting Scarlet Fever the weekend before the movers come; we somehow accomplish it all before the flight with the help of other well-honed people standing ready to help you through the craziness - because they know their turn is coming.
Our lasts - our goodbyes - our endings are somewhat more finale as we not only let go of our home for the last 8 years, but also that whole "family" that is the military life. I was thinking about that this morning while I scrolled through Facebook (which I definitely don't have time for, I know, but there it is). I was reading the posts about friends PCS'ing to their next base, looking at pictures of promotion ceremonies, a retirement ceremony. And while the Air Force (and in particular Rob's immediate command here in Germany) have been wonderful to us throughout his illness, his death, and our aftermath - we will leave that whole community with not much pomp and circumstance. My kids won't ever punch rank onto their Dad's arm. There won't be a plaque for me after 20+ years of following Rob across the globe and steadfastly supporting him and his mission. We will quietly slip away from all that we knew and navigate these new waters. We will, again, become a completely different family.
As I watch the boxes get filled, or the truck pull away with the furniture I sold it's like watching a puzzle slowly being taken apart. Pieces of the life that were held together in a random interlocking pattern. Tangible memories that we will leave here. With God's grace, mercy, and peace I know there are objects that will replace the missing, the picture will look different - new, but, yet, somehow.......... complete.
I gotta go organize something before my dog gets lost.............