...And there you have, The Facts of Life.
The other day I was at the commissary (military speak for grocery store) with the kids, and Tommy got off early* so he met us there.
*Early = 5:00 p.m. He "only" worked 12 hours that day.
We were almost finished getting our groceries when a woman approached us and asked how old Olivia was (she has a 7-month old at home). I answered her, and then she proceeded to blurt out her entire story to us. She and her family had just arrived to the island a few days prior and she was having some serious culture shock. I think it had something to do with being like 8,000 miles away from the States. She was fighting back tears the entire time we were talking and I thought she was going to lose it at any minute. I felt so bad for her! Been there, done that.
I could tell she was older than us, but then she dropped the bomb. Her husband has been serving in the Marine Corps for 27 years. Twenty-seven years!!
To put that in perspective, Tommy just hit his 13-year mark in June. Meaning she has been doing this twice as long. And she still cries after every. single. move.
I kind of thought that the longer you did this, the easier it got. Guess I was wrong.
We tried to reassure her that it gets better, but the truth is, living this far away is both a blessing and a curse. The island is beautiful, there are so many adventures to be had, and what a great opportunity we have to travel and experience another culture! But the reality is, it is HARD. You have no family. You have few, if any, friends. You are half-way around the world with young children, have no support system, and your husband out-of-country half the time. When he is home, he works at least 12 hours a day. It is truly a double-edged sword!
I have been thinking about her for a couple of days now, hoping she is adjusting. It does get better, and it does get easier, one day at a time until your three years here are up. And then you put on your big girl panties and do it all over again.
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