Thoughts on Moving

I've moved 18 times in my life, 15 of them since I left my childhood home. I was one of those kids that went from kindergarten to sixth grade at the same school, all three years of junior high at the same school, and ditto with high school. It wasn't until I became an army wife that moving became a regular event in my life.

Civilian friends who could not comprehend the military lifestyle asked me if I liked moving, whether I missed my friends and family. The answer to both is yes. Well, actually, it wasn't the moving itself I liked, it was "having moved." I learned to enjoy the sense of adventure, particularly since many of those moves involved going overseas to locations that, given my prairie town childhood, seemed incredibly exotic -- Germany, Japan, Hawaii, Puerto Rico, and the ability to travel in those areas of the world. I would have missed learning so much, seeing all those places, meeting so many interesting people, making lasting friends. I would have missed learning a smattering of several languages and becoming fluent in spoken German. I would have missed the opportunity to learn new arts and crafts, to photograph things I would never have even seen any other way.

Of course I missed my family, particularly during the first overseas tour of duty in Germany, the farthest I had ever been from my family. I was fortunate that my husband's German family was close by and welcomed me with open arms.

Of course I missed my friends, but I tried my best to stay in contact with them, just as I did with those newer friends I made along the way.

I just went through a long and complicated move and hope to stay put for years now, but still take trips around the world. At a certain point, moving becomes too physically demanding without a lot of help.

I'm looking forward to new friends here, and I hope the old ones all come to visit. I'm looking forward to new discoveries. I grew up in a fine place. I lived in many.