Sometimes life is a kick in the pants, particularly with respect to the military way of life. You get orders, you move, you make friends, you move again, you make new friends and so forth and so on goes the unending cycle until/unless you retire. I suppose we all retire or get out at some point, whatever. Go with me here. It's my erratic stream of consciousness.
eeks, no, months, back now, the man in blue received orders. Punch in the gut as that news was, it has grown on me and I am working with the idea. Like I have a choice, right? Fast forward to recent events, two friends, there is possibility they could arrive at a place near where I will no longer be residing. Not the same place, but dangerously close to where I sit this very evening. In fact, that place will be thousands upon thousands of miles from where I am headed. Sad? That's a serious understatement.
While I am elated for my fellow spouses (and I truly mean that, please ladies know that I do), I can't help but feel that gut punch again. You know how you just truly feel that there are some people who come into your life for more than just a season? There is a reason beyond all comprehension. Yeah, well these two ladies fit that description. They have been my confidants, support and simply my friends. It is hard to be overjoyed sometimes when inside I'm shouting in my silly little head that it's not fair (imagine a really whiny girly voice screaming that while jumping up and down before she storms off and slams her bedroom door shut).
Self pity aside, I know the detailers have no agenda. They have a job to do. They do it. They don't care how it affects a family much less how it affects friendships. That's a no-brainer. And, of course, that's the way it should be. Still, I wish for an iota of a second the needs of the CG required someone to call me up and say Ma'am where would you like your lovely friends to live next? How can we get you folks together if even just for a year. Now, is that too much to ask?
Don't answer that.