Once again, I sit here in the quiet hours of the morning, before the chaos of the day begins, sipping my Americano (because it is finally Friday and Friday deserves a treat with a lot of caffeine) and find myself reflecting on the transition that our family is in, once again.
Last week, we found out that instead of leaving our home in the Lakes that we have loved for two and a half years and simply moving 30 minutes away, we are, in fact, loading up all of our belongings and moving West. Way, way, way West to El Paso and Fort Bliss, Texas. In a month. No. Big. Deal. {Insert manic laughter}
I am always up for a move. The thought of a new place, new people, new food, a new community, and a new climate gets me excited. I love the idea of adventure and all of the things to see. I love that we are adding a new place to the kids already long list of places traveled and lived. I am slightly annoyed about leaving the job that I have procured after many hours of working my ass off for a certification that I won’t be using anytime soon. And, of course, there is the anxiety that comes with a move and the preparation for it. But... I feel like this move is good for my husband’s career, good for our future, and any slight annoyance is trumped by the positives.
With every move comes the reflection of where we have been and how this place that has become “home” for several years has changed us, both individually and as a family. I feel like this is one of the perks of Army life. While many tell me, “I have no idea how you do it! Move every few years? It’s crazy!” I can’t help but feel like it is a gift. How many people get to chapter off their lives with different places and experiences? Not many and for that I am grateful. Joe and I often think back to different moments in our lives and in our relationship and they are accented by the desert of Fort Irwin, California or the sun and ocean in Hawaii. Now, I look back on these past few years and I will forever remember the healing that came from the lakes and living among the pines.
When we got to the Lakes, I was picking up the pieces from my broken and grieving heart. I had no idea when, or how, I’d feel whole again after losing my mom. I was also on a search to find myself after being a stay at home mom for six years. But, I think that when we are absolutely and completely broken, we allow ourselves to be rebuilt.
With Joe’s many work trips, I found myself alone at the end of the night, sitting outside with the warmth and humidity hugging me while I painted and listened to the wildlife and trees rustle. Those many moments brought peace.
I got hired and went back to work… which I thought would be fun and easy (ish? I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking…). The pandemic hit and the world stopped and I had to push myself as a teacher even more. I reinvented and created and worked many, many late and early hours. Despite the challenges, I can confidently say that I knew my students and was able to connect with them.
My kids grew. Despite virtual learning, mask wearing, pandemic fears, ups and downs and chaos, they grew. Addie got help with her reading and she soared. After many years of being my crazy one, Gus settled into his own skin and became this bright and funny and caring little boy. Teddy took over the role of our crazy kid and learned and laughed. My Army brats are amazing and adjusted and pivoted and I am amazed at what they have done these past few years.
Joe and I hit many bumps with our marriage. I hit many bumps with my depression and anxiety. We fought for our marriage. I fought for my mental health. And we persevered.
That’s the thing with reflection. You can’t just look at the good stuff but you have to examine the hard moments and see what you learned and where you grew. Despite whatever hardships we dealt with, I feel like our marriage is stronger than ever and I am stronger than ever. My feet are firmly on the ground, my head is clear, I am focused and feeling positive and am excited about what is in store… even though I haven’t a single clue what that will look like.
So, thank you, my Lakes for healing this broken spirit. Your tall trees that felt like a protection from the crazy world, sparkling water that left me in awe daily, your deer and birds and bunnies that visited our home, your community and beautiful fall leaves, cozy snowy days, vibrant spring colors, revitalizing summer season, and the trails where I have spent so many hours pounding pavement to run and work my shit out… have all helped my heart and made me feel whole again.
For that, I will be forever grateful and I am now ready to begin the next chapter, feeling stronger and wiser than ever....
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