Him: Thanks for coming to see me in Alabama.
Me: No problem, I’ll go wherever you are, you know.
Him: Not Minot, no one comes to Minot.
Me: Even Minot, it’s worth going to because you’re there.
Him: Um, this just got too serious for text messages. Can we talk later?
It seriously astounded my boyfriend of two and a half months that I would even consider going to Minot to visit him. Almost three years later, his airmen were interrogating me about our early love story when I mentioned moving to Minot to be with him. The entire room (only 5-7 people to be fair) turned to stare at me, and one brave lone soul said, “it has to be true love if you’re willing to move there, I’d never move to Minot for anyone.”
We’re still a few months out from finding out where our next stop on this journey of life will be. Today though, we found out there were more possibilities than we knew. There’s still a lot of information for us to research for said opportunities, but for a little while today, we decided to just dream of possibilities. We checked out the BAH (basic allowance for housing) for each area, made up dream sheets of which spots we’d like best. I even checked into average piano lesson rates in each area. Finally, I listed my preferred locations on the list, before telling him that I’d follow him anywhere.
Which, of course I will. That’s my job. I sometimes think that the biblical Ruth must be the patron saint of military families. It takes an attitude like hers to make it in the constantly evolving landscape of the military career.
Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Ruth 1:16
It’s what we do. We go with them, stay with them, and turn their work buddies into our own make shift family. We make new friends. Find new jobs and turn yet another cookie cutter military house into our home.
I was accused once of having something wrong with me due to my love of moving to new places and starting over. I was told that I was deficient in some way because I didn’t want to put down roots. I’m grateful for that part of me though, that resiliency to hang in there when the going gets rough and to dream, forever hopeful, of the next home to come.