I don't know why, but it hit me this morning that our time at anchor in our idyllic neighborhood is temporary. It has been three years since we moved into our little cape cod house with red brick walls surrounded by giant trees. This is the longest we have lived at a single address since Justin and I were in high school. Life, even after the kids were born, has been a constant blur of moving trucks and cardboard boxes. But three years in, I feel like life has tricked us. Three years is enough to make me feel stable, permanent, a member of the community. I feel like I could live in this house on the lane with my amazing neighbor family and a husband that actually comes home at night forever.
But this morning. For some reason. I woke up shaking and sad and contemplative. Our time here has an expiration date. It's not forever. It's temporary. But gosh golly gee wiz. I'm amazingly grateful for this time. This experience. This house. This street. Hopefully my neighbors aren't resentful of us military families who keep coming and going. Hopefully they are as grateful as I am that our lives have crossed.
But seriously. I need to snap out of it. We still have a good long time here. We'll squeeze every possible memory and experience out of it before we drift onto the next duty station.