The Conundrums of Moving...

 Dear fishes-

    Being a former military kid (saying "military brat" is really derogatory and makes me cringe when I hear it--I don't call civilian kids "domicile deviants" or other rubbish). My father put his neck on the line while protecting this country and people should show respect to military personnel for their services rendered in the ongoing fight of protecting everyone's freedoms. There are those that don't understand what it's like being a military kid--I'm here to explain. 

     When you're a military kid, you're forced to go to new places with new schools, new faces, and try to make a semblance of a life there. Nothing is spared in regard to expectations to thrive where you've been put for a short while. I loved living on a military base, as a kid because all of the other kids were in the same boat as you were. When we lived off base (in residential neighborhoods) it was tumultuous to say the least--you had to constantly explain to others about where you've lived before and why you were so different. It gets annoying to meet people that haven't moved around a lot because they think you're "weird" because you don't want to wear the same things that others wear because you've actually lived in other places where there are other cultures to draw from for your wardrobe choices. I actually feel sorry for people that haven't moved around a lot--you don't get to see how diverse other places are and you don't get to meet a lot of people while staying in your close minded town usually. Don't get me wrong, there are exceptions--not all are like that, but I've met a plethora of individuals that are cool and haven't moved around a lot, but when I've lived off of a military base, in places that had small towns, most of them felt incestuous because they only marry within their local area. I find it sad, really. 

      Take for instance when I lived in Waterloo, Wisconsin. I had fun there, but it was just a tiny town of 3,000 people that knew everything about everyone and didn't care to branch out there. The people I went to 8th and part of 9th grade are still probably all there and wondering why their lives aren't any different. There is some security to living in one place your whole life--you can expect things to be uneventful for the most part and predictable. Being put in one place your whole life doesn't allow you to foster new relationships with others. It was even worse when I lived in Alma, KS....I don't believe most of those people ever left their town much, nor did they realize that there was much more to life than their small bubble of 900 people. Maybe they're extra grateful that the internet was created, so that they would have something to branch out on, even if it's anonymously. 

     After about the tenth time of moving, I started to like it because it meant that you got a fresh start and that you could be something completely different at each place you moved to. You meet the same people everywhere you move, just with different faces. It's easy to peg people within social circles and say that that individual reminds you of "B" individual, while "A" persona was slightly different, but the same nonetheless. I've met people that freak out when their kid has to move once during their adolescence. Imagine if their kids had been in my shoes--they'd probably be a wreck, including the parents. I kind of always felt that our family was like a circus everywhere we went. My dad was creative, clever, and crazy--all in that order. My dad had really bad ADHD that he was never medicated for, so he was a walking contradiction on a lot of things. For  a while as a kid, it felt like our family was a freak show on display, until puberty hit. I was cute as a kid, but then I was an ugly duckling as a middle schooler and the kids were merciless in reminding me everyday about it--thank you Aurora, CO for your all inclusive harassment at my expense at a ghetto school. I believe it was called Aurora Hills Middle School, if I remember right. Luckily that only lasted a year and then we moved. I remember while I attended that school that the teachers would have to padlock the doors on the inside because of gang members trying to get in or something like that--it was nuts. There were also no windows in the classrooms except the art room, so there were only sectional dividers for each class. I can remember kids throwing spit wads across the dividers and it landing in my class room. I came home crying a lot from that school--it was depressing. 

        Because of moving around a lot as a kid, I was exposed to many different types of people, ethnicities, races, and cultures. I loved learning about how other people lived, their religion, what made them tick, and what made them special. I loved getting to know a lot of people and I'm grateful that I got to move around a lot as a kid. Was it hard? You bet. It was hard deciphering how long we'd live in a place before my dad would get bored of a place and want to move somewhere else. The grass was always greener....over the septic tank....lol 

   I believe the reasons why I usually had international friends growing up, was because that's what I had been accustomed to from a father that loved having international items from different places that he had procured at good deals. My dad was all about deals. One time he almost bought a rickshaw because he thought it would be an interesting design piece in our living room. It was being sold for $500--that was a lot of money in the 80's. My mom put the kibosh on that.  Just like the time he almost brought home a spider monkey that had been used in governmental labs at the V.A., when we lived in West Des Moines, Iowa. My mom also vehemently stated that there was no way in hell that that was going to live in our home. I thought it was kind of cool, myself. It would have been cool to have, but would have been a huge commitment. My mom stated that the spider monkey could have been infected with all manner of diseases (from governmental testing) and that if it bit us, we would be infected with said diseases. My dad always said that my mom ruined his fun. She was more trying to have a home that wasn't crazy all of the time. That was hard since we were constantly living out of boxes because of moving all of the time. 

     Moving is hard, I really feel for migrant workers' kids because those kids don't have the basic necessities and move into squalor while their families try to earn money to put food on the table. It was a rough life what I experienced, but I'm sure it would have been even harder being a migrant's kid. I remember watching this documentary about migrant worker kids and how behind in schooling they are and why that their lives were like that. My heart goes out to them. 

     When you have a hard thing in life, you can make it into an opportunity by looking at it differently. Looking at things from a different vantage point can make everything seem so purposeful. God is in the details of life, or so this is what I've noticed about my own life. I've seen miracles in my own life that God has given me and I've seen His miraculous hand in those that I love. I'm grateful for this thing called life and all that it offers and all of the people I get to meet with each move that I have. It will always be hard to move, but there are blessings in there as well. I'm often reminded of Job and what he went through in the Old Testament. He was blessed even greater when his time was over being tested. So it is with life. There is so much more in the next life to look forward to than this life. I'm grateful for the atonement of Jesus Christ and I'm grateful that we'll all be resurrected one day. What a beautiful blessing to human beings. This life is just a blip in the eternal spectrum of things. Hold on, there are better things in store for you and I and we just have to keep living our best lives and wait on God's timetable. I mean come on, I got married at age 43--that was miraculous in and of itself with all of the things and scars I've experienced in my life. Just keep hoping and dreaming. Nothing is too big for our God to bless you with. 

See ya in the sea anemone, 

B.