Yesterday was a big day for our family. Anyone who has any involvement in the military will know that every two years your life is suspended whilst you wait with baited breath for news of your spouse’s posting. Months before you will have sat down together and completed a wish list of jobs and locations and then between times tried desperately hard not to waste energy thinking of the consequences of each and every one of those possible options.
It doesn’t always make for the happiest of family lives and so two years ago we made a decision to try and create some stability out of this chaos, by moving into our own home. I have written before about how that meant choosing a life where we live “apart together” and the compromises this has meant. This time around the news would mean one of three things. A new weekly commute of equal distance, a new weekly commute that involved a flight or just possibly a daily commute.
Last night as we waited for news I realised I was completely mentally unprepared to hear the option that involved a weekly flight and I set about belatedly trying to prepare. Yesterday morning I got up and tried to carry on through our morning routine without obsessively checking the phone every few minutes, but then finally the news came…
… Jim’s next job is going to be 18 minutes away from our home.
It’s an absolute game-changer. There is still another year of weekly commutes ahead which will be broken up by an extended period of leave over the summer and Christmas, but when the latest addition to our family arrives, we will only be a few short months away from all living together under one roof.
My dad summed it up nicely this afternoon when he said “So you aren’t going anywhere until at least 2018” which is as damn near stability as we are ever likely to get.