CONTRIBUTED BY DEVAN KACZYNSKI/ARCHIVE PHOTO
Whenever I’ve moved to a new place, I knew that if I needed to, I could go “home” within some short airplane hours. Moving here is different, and I should be more uncomfortable; I should be more scared that Texas is out and my circa-1975 concrete base housing bunker is now home. I do feel homesick, but it’s for the places I’ve never known.
The madness of a deployed husband while preparing to PCS to Japan brought out my crazy, and I’ve got to give the “keeping it normal” gold star to my sister Skylar for being and bringing the sanity to this journey. Now, on to some of my not-so-proud moments …
Sorry to the Mr. Important Marine officer that I might have called incompetent and to the undoubtedly helpful and sweet-faced female Marine that I might have made cry. And, to the male overseas screener who asked me wildly inappropriate female health questions … I am not sorry.
To my 18 Kindergarteners that I left in North Carolina, I miss y’all so much. I’m sorry to my best friend for moving across the world when you’re seven months pregnant; Skype dates will have to be a new normal. Sorry to my liver for consuming too much red wine. I’m sorry to my family who has supported me and my husband no matter how far away we are. (Thank you Snap Chat.) I’m sorry to my two four-legged babies who I forced to make this move with me. You can chew up as much of my stuff as you want and I won’t be angry.
And, sorry to my husband for all the questions: “Will there be (fill in the blank – I’ve definitely asked it), in Japan?” I can’t wait to share this adventure with you!
The apology I never want to make is to myself for not collecting the moments that I’ve never known, the moments that I feel homesick for. I may be lost, but I’m lost in the right direction.