Why Does She Have to PCS?

I knew the day was coming, but it felt so far away. In fact, it still doesn’t feel real. It happens all the time in the military community—people move, and then they move again. I’ve said it many times—it’s a small big military, and we never lose our forever friends; they just move a bit. I’ve also always said people are closer than ever with Facebook and texting. But when I know they’re leaving, it make me want to cry, “Why does she have to PCS?”

Nevertheless, sometimes your own words can’t help you. I knew the day was coming; I just didn’t think it would be here so soon.

It was Halloween 2016, and this lovely young woman with long hair and two adorable toddlers emerged from next door to trick-or-treat. We’d lived next to her since mid-August, but with her travel schedule and us getting settled, we hadn’t met.

However, on that holiday evening, we chatted and started our friendship.

You know, that whole mom-dating thing.

First you talk over the fence and spy out the windows.

Then, you venture on to coffee and a popover visit.

She invited us over for Christmas. I went to be polite, and her house was Christmas heaven, with perfectly placed decorations and 8-10 young military families crowded around the kitchen island, laughing and creating memories far from home.

As time wore on, the popover visits turned into many long talks with a glass of wine. And then adventures began.

We encouraged each other to take a few more risks in life and to adventure more. I told her in one of the first meetings that I don’t babysit, but as we got to know the little family next door, we loved to have the kids over, and we became a regular at every unicorn or Spiderman birthday bash.

She encouraged me to be more comfortable in front of a camera, and I encouraged her to leap in to doing photography full time.

A kind word, or gift when I was down, or a shoulder to lean on when her husband was in the field yet again, we became fast friends and would not have dreamed of going more than two or three days without checking in (except when she was traveling; she was really good at figuring out Space A).

We prayed for each other’s victories and pain, we supported each other in faith and family. I was blessed to have a neighbor who turned into an amazing friend who I counted on and enjoyed spending time with every day for two years.

But, as fast as we became friends, it was time for her to PCS.

I knew it was coming, but I was non-confronting the whole issue. Until last month, that is. I came home from work, glanced in her back door, and noticed all her pictures were off the wall.

I realized the time was coming when my neighbors would be gone.

We packed a ton of adventures into the last few weeks: family photos and searching for dolphins, which meant early mornings for days until finally, we were able to swim with the dolphins.

Going away dinners with tons of great friends.

Drives into the city to find art openings and good food.

Riding shotgun when taking the long drive to the airport and shipping the two family dogs back to the mainland.

And of course, the nonstop laughs in many situations, like when we stopped at a nonexistent red light, and then we realized it wasn’t a stop light, so we jetted into traffic causing a few cars to hit the brakes and swerve.

But, as we all know, in this life the day will finally come. The day I was avoiding.

I gave her the last hug, looked at her blue-eyed babies, and said goodbye. Tears fell from both of us, and I turned and walked away.

Never goodbye, just see you later.

Sometimes it’s easier to be the one off on the new adventure than the one left behind.

As I drove in the driveway this evening, I knew my friend was gone. In fact, already aboard her plane headed back for some vacation time with family, and then on to the next duty station. This was tough, but perhaps even harder is sitting at my computer typing this, which in the past would be interrupted (thank God) by a tap on the door and my friend coming in to tell me about her day or ask how I was doing.

But not tonight.

This will be one of the many times I will sniffle and feel the tears falling, knowing my friend and neighbor is moving on.

I know I’m not unique in this. We all move and leave our fast friends.

I know that I’ll still love her and will see her again.

I know this, because when I left our last duty station I left part of my heart with another wonderful friend, who I still talk to and love very much, who comes to visit and is only a phone call or text away.

But still, the sadness is real, and I know this chapter with my friend and neighbor is closed.

It’s in these times we must remember to be grateful. I’m grateful I’ve been blessed to have Noelle as a neighbor and a lifetime friend. I’ll be sad for a little while, every time I come home, those two little toddlers won’t be bouncing on the trampoline saying, “Hi, Aunty Wendy,” and her husband’s voice won’t say, “Howdy, neighbor,” from the garage as he hears the creaking of our gate.

This we know as military spouses: tons of goodbyes, but always making friends we will cherish for a lifetime.