My R&R is about shot.
One day left and another run to the storage place in Carson. It’s been two weeks of sorting and
packing. Some items bound for eventual
life on the big island of Hawaii, some items for life in SoCal until I can fund
life on the island. It’s been a strange
experience. I seemingly dropped out of
the sky onto the Bu. Coming from six
months in Pakistan I may as well be on Mars.
Life here is that different.
American’s view of Pakistan is rather skewed. Many of my friends don’t know there is any
difference between Afghanistan and Pakistan.
Most of the remainder thinks Pakistan is a bed of bloodthirsty
terrorists with nukes. This is what
happens when news becomes a profit center rather than a public service. No more “foreign desks” at news outlets. If it isn’t sensational it won’t sell ad
space. It’s sad really.
So here I am. In
three weeks my wife moves to Hawaii. In
six months I return to SoCal effectively homeless. I have to work at my normal employer to pay
off the home on the island. It’s a weird
feeling. I know it likely confuses most
of the people we know. But that is what
happens when you are a military family.
You become pragmatic. She has a
job in Hawaii. We have a farm there that
needs attention. It simply makes since
for her to make the move now.
So I come back to the thought that began this dialog. I live in a beautiful community. It’s in the mountains next to the ocean. It’s affluent. We have an amazing view of the Palos Verdes Peninsula
and Catalina Island. It’s a reasonable
commute to my civilian gig and quite peaceful.
So am I going to miss this life? That
is a difficult question to answer. I
have a hard time imagining life back in the city, but I as I drive about Malibu
I feel it is time to move on. I will
miss my neighbors. We have an amazing
community here. It’s the first time I’ve
been such an embedded part of the community.
I am well known and well thought of here. But… it feels uncomfortably familiar. I am antsy.
Beautiful as it may be its beginning to look quite mundane. Yes, time to move on. I think my main issue is a bad case of
wanderlust.
I feel a bit self conscious telling people I am quite happy
in Islamabad. How that hell does that
even work? Forsaking the gilded coast of
Malibu for a somewhat dangerous 3rd world country? I wish I could provide you all an answer you
would understand. Alas, I can’t. I am a sailor. I am happiest when moving on every 2 or 3
years. For my neighbors in Corral Canyon:
I will always cherish the community we created after that terrible blaze. It has been an honor of the highest order to
be part of that process. My family by
this point knows that I am a hopeless wanderer.
My wife puts up with my frequent absences knowing it will pay off in the
long run. My children just know this to
be what I do, for better or worse. My
mom and sister have watched this play out over a lifetime. My friends… I am not sure what to say to my
friends. I am incredibly lucky to have
wonderful friends all over this planet.
I am deeply touched by the number of friends that have offered up spare
rooms for when I return. I love you
all. Thank you for remaining in
touch. Thank you for putting up with my
occasionally extreme politics. Thank you
for making my life richer.
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