I’m on emotional overload today. I said goodbye to my seniors yesterday without too many tears, and without breaking into Rod Stewart’s classic “Forever Young,” although it was playing in my head the whole time. If someone had cued up “Pomp and Circumstance,” I would have needed a mop. Today I say goodbye to the rest of my students and colleagues.
My husband flew in last night from Norfolk. I vacillated between laughing and crying the whole time I was waiting in the airport, prompting a few odd stares. It’s only been a couple months—I am praying for my friends who are in the middle of seven-month, nine-month, twelve-month, and Lord help us, fourteen-month deployments. (And all props out to my single mom or dad friends who run the helm solo daily) My little homecoming rates in the minor leagues comparably. This reunion though marks the end of a duty station, one where he was gone 25 of the last 50 weeks. Thank goodness those weeks weren’t all in a row, but the up-and-down roller coaster of having Daddy in-and-out has been a constant joy and drain. We are finally all together in one place—a messy, irritate-each-other, in-each-other’s-space place—the best place to be.
Today marks the end of transition phase 1: finish work. We’re beginning transition phase 2: circuitous leave is what it is called, I believe…circuitous meaning “take your circus on the road and descend on family and friends,” ready or not. Phase 3 begins July 10th or so, when we begin the hilarious task of pretending all this stuff is going to fit into 10-12 suitcases, before flying to Okinawa via Seattle on the 11th. This time next month, Lord willing, we’ll be waking up on the other side of the world. Whew…one day at a time.