Change is the Only Constant
Author’s note: This post was originally published on May 10, 2021, almost 9 months after we PCSed from Madrid, Spain to the Bay Area, California.
I have been thinking a lot about change lately. As a military family, we have had to endure a seemingly endless amount of changes over the past decade or so. Multiple moves, resulting in changing not only our home address, but also our routines (doctors, dentists, schools, vets to name a few) and hardest of all, our hard-earned community. You would think that after five moves in ten years, I would be used to it by now. And in a way, I am. When it’s time for us to PCS, I’ve usually known the change was coming and have been able to adapt pretty well each time. But this past move threw me for a loop, and if I’m honest, I am still struggling to fully find my footing.
As I sit here and reflect on why it’s been so hard, I can think of several reasons. The most obvious is the pandemic. An international move is hard enough, but moving across the world in the middle of a pandemic is something else entirely. One would think that moving back to a place we’d lived before would offset this a bit, and in a way, it has - particularly having family support nearby. But it didn’t change the fact that we have never lived here as parents before, and it’s been really hard to connect with other families during this time. First, because our daughter was in 100% distance learning for the first few months here, and then, because due to the pandemic, families just aren’t socializing as much. And when they are, they seem to stick to their bubbles - no one seems too interested in branching out beyond the familiar. That’s been a tough pill to swallow for me, as I’d had the fortune of being part of some incredibly welcoming communities in both Madrid and Rhode Island.
Another reason this move has felt harder is that it was somewhat unexpected. Due to complicated work reasons, our 3-year Madrid assignment was cut down to 2 days…and then the pandemic robbed us of our last six months (most of which were spent in Covid lockdown or with strict restrictions). Even though I feel really fortunate that we got an assignment home to California, I really grieved (and still grieve) the loss of our life in Madrid, of that third year we expected, but did not get. Sometimes I let myself linger in the past for a bit too long and get sad at the thought that once was will never again be. Those first 18 months in Madrid were pure magic. We lived in a beautiful, spacious apartment, right next to Retiro Park, and I could walk the kids to their wonderful international school, where I’d routinely meet up with other expat moms for an after-drop-off coffee. I walked everywhere, and was able to practice my Spanish every day. We took full advantage of our life in a capital city, going on frequent date nights and flying off to different European cities as often as we could our children willing and enthusiastic travel partners. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I truly felt at my happiest during that time, especially in 2019 once we’d been settled. I felt like I could’ve stayed in that life forever. But, as Garrett likes to remind me, it wasn’t “real life.” I will fully acknowledge that it was an extremely privileged dream life, and we are very lucky we got to experience those two years in Madrid. And even if we’d been able to stay that third year, the pandemic changed everything.
Which brings me to my last point. Change. I like to think that I am used to it as part of this transient military lifestyle. But something that has surprised me is that change is happening all around us too. I have often been guilty of thinking that we [military families] are the only ones who move away, but somehow everything else stays the same. That if I can just find my way back to Madrid, for example, it will be just as I remember it. But I am learning that simply isn’t true. A couple months ago, we lost Felicia. That loss alone makes Madrid different from the one I said goodbye to. One of my closest friends from Madrid - someone I thought would be there for the long-haul - is moving away at the end of this month. Siena’s best friend from her Madrid school unexpectedly moved to Canada for the remainder of this school year. So, even if we’d gotten that third year in Madrid, it would still be different. And here, too, the changes are happening: a family who I consider an East Bay fixture is moving to Virginia next month. And just this morning, I found out that our daughter’s closest friend from school - who started at the same time as her in February - is moving to Houston due to her dad’s job at the end of the school year. No matter where we are, it seems the old adage really is true: “change is the only constant.”
I guess this should make me feel better, but today, I’m just feeling sad. Weary. It’s been three months since Siena started at her new school (a change we feel was for the better, given that she is fully in-person now), and she was finally feeling like she had a close friend in her class. Now that friend is moving away, and my heart breaks for my little girl who has had to deal with so many changes in her short life. Because I know they’ll only keep on coming.
I'm a military spouse, mom, and indie children's book author on a mission to help military kids feel seen and understood.
I love visiting schools and libraries and interacting with my young readers! I offer both in-person and virtual visits, and especially enjoy meeting our military community.
