The No Good, Very Bad, COVID PCS

Almost every day, for the last three weeks, I’ve started my morning with a special brew. I walk down to the cozy café (that is, the breakfast lounge of the installation hotel—PCS, anyone?), and pour the nearly fresh coffee into its signature Styrofoam cup. I’m a decaf person, but depending on the night from which I have just awoken, I may mix myself a half-caffeinated cup of coffee, or a few times now, full-on regular.

So yeah, it’s been a little rough.

Let me back up a bit and explain.

You have seen me mention a couple of times now in past blogs (A Decade With You and I Wish, I Wonder, I Hurt), that the Army unexpectedly changed our orders. This whole thing starts off with a PCS that wasn’t supposed to happen this year. Though the Army provided us sufficient time to move, my husband and I still had to scramble on a few things, and it put our whole family in a slight tizzy.

Then, Murphy’s Law of PCSing took over.

Our car suddenly needed some small repairs, and while looking into those issues, we found it needed a brand new battery. This is at least three or four PCSes now, where one of our vehicles suddenly needs a new battery! It’s the small inconveniences like this that we just don’t have time for, along with the bit of extra money it requires.

But, we got it done.

Fast forward a couple of weeks.

In my attempt to keep some things normal for my kids, I took each of them on their annual individual school-supply-shopping date with me. On the date with my first child, we came out of the store to find our van with a completely flat tire. It was so bad, it could not be repaired, and we had to pay a nice chunk of money for a new tire, along with the labor. It also ruined the rest of mine and my child’s date (which then required I find another open slot in our packed PCS schedule to complete this date).

Around the same time, we were notified our van had three recalls, and we wanted to get them fixed before our PCS road trip. Though, thankfully, we didn’t have to pay for these repairs, we still had to find time to schedule them and drive the van more than an hour away to accomplish this at the appropriate dealership.

As we got closer to our major PCS preparation, many friends and neighbors around us started coming down with COVID. A few times, as friends we had just been near would test positive, we would pause our plans to go get tested ourselves. We obviously wanted to make sure we were still healthy before moving on to our other plans. A couple of times, we had to drive an hour away for the most convenient COVID testing experience.

On one such excursion to that test site, a cement truck ahead of me threw out a rock and cracked the windshield of our van. The crack began at the bottom of the windshield and slowly rose in a vertical line toward the top. We later found it was too large for a quick fix, and the entire windshield would need to be replaced. But, as Murphy’s Law would continue to have its way, the windshield would have to be special ordered, and there was no guarantee it would arrive before our move date.

Needless to say, I’m still driving a van with a cracked windshield.

Eleven days before the packers were scheduled to be at our house, COVID found its way into our home. There was no way we could escape it in the middle of a move, no matter the precautions we took to be safe. Praise God, it was a mild case for us, and something I’m not taking for granted. We had some farewell meetups we had to cancel and important appointments we had to reschedule or cancel completely. We were just out of time.

We had originally planned to camp out in our house a while longer, while the packers began their work around us. However, we called the moving company to explain our situation and asked if we left our home sooner, sanitized everything, and aired it out, would they still come. They gave us the thumbs up! Hallelujah! I don’t even want to think about the complications we would have had if we were forced to reschedule movers at the last minute.

Two days before packers arrived, I was just willing my body to move. I reached a point, as I do with most moves, where I wasn’t sure I could make it through those last few days. I was so worn out physically and so overwhelmed by all the things I still had to try to fit in, on top of recovering from COVID. I just wanted to wish those days away and already be on the way to our new location.

It’s the week leading up to the movers’ arrival that’s always the hardest for me. I think it’s the hardest for the majority of anyone preparing for a move. Especially if you’re moving far away and have a lot of people to bid farewell. You try to fit in all the lasts with all those people. Or the last excursions to all the fun places. Or the last outings to all the best local eateries.

We had been going, going, going, fitting in all of those lasts, while also reorganizing some household goods and packing our suitcases. And then we had to abruptly stop because of COVID. I was sad and frustrated. But, I also felt a bit more relaxed, knowing I had to let some things go. So, we carried on a little slower, as we scrubbed down our home and moved into our tiny temporary place.

Before I knew it, my birthday approached. A big birthday. One I had initially imagined celebrating with a small dinner outing with my friends. It would make for a fun and memorable farewell. But not every member of our family was ready to be out of isolation, the house wasn’t completely packed, and my and my friends’ schedules were too full anyway. My husband, instead, grabbed specialty donuts (as life would have it then, the bakery was out of my favorite flavor), and we got some local take-out lunch.

It certainly was not the birthday, or even the PCS, I had imagined. And yes, I admit I moped about it at moments.

But ironically, I thanked God for forcing me to take a breath from all of this, focus on only my family, and finish our move prep with no other distractions. Afterall, I was healthy again, and I had every member of my family right there with me, almost healthy again as well. What more could I want?

We pushed through those last few days with the movers, we made it to church one last time to say see ya later, we enjoyed one last week with our homeschool community, we ran around quick giving hugs to all of those we missed time with while we were sick, and we pulled out. We made it safely through our long road trip and reached our final destination…

…where we were greeted with housing issues. Now, that part we did expect!

So, after already being in transition for several weeks, here we sit, in our installation hotel, waiting another month to get into our new house. The kids are restless, as they’re completely over hotel living and adjusting routines. The toddler is confused and a whole new level of ornery. No one is sleeping right. We’re all on survival mode—the mode that has been on auto drive for more than a month now. Sometimes I’m not sure we can make it another month.

I’m trying so hard to be patient and flexible and make this experience more fun. I’m trying to make our homeschool more hands on as we explore our new little world together. Most of all, I’m trying to give myself grace, as I also try to give my children more grace. I am doing my best in this crazy COVID, PCS, strange housing season…

…with a whole lot of Jesus and one Army Hotel coffee at a time!

You may also like If You Had a PCS in 2021, PCS Stress-less, and PCS and Stress: A Personal Journey.