From the time of my birth, we moved every 1-3 years. 

I was a child with a country, but without a home. 

Today they call children like me military dependents – back then we were called military brats. 

This was my life – it was all I ever knew. 

We spent most of my childhood living on base. The houses were older and nondescript- nothing like the lovely homes they are building on base for today’s military warriors and their families. 

When I was ten, we moved to the Philippines, leaving our cat and the only dog we ever had behind. The quarantine requirements for the animals were too cruel to bring them along. 

I loved the Philippines, and traveled all over the islands with my school and youth group. It was here I got my love for international travel. 

I also learned how tremendously blessed we were, coming from a first world country. The abject poverty in the Philippines was shocking, and heart rending. 

When we returned stateside, I literally bent down and kissed the tarmac as soon after I descended the wobbly metal stairs. 

I have never taken for granted  being blessed to be an American. Any time I hear our national anthem, tears are in my eyes. I remember. 

Soon I was back in the routine of frequent moves. 

When I was a sophomore in high school, we moved to the Wasatch front, and I was able to complete my high school years all in the same school.

I had lived in this area as a very small child, and I loved the mountains. Returning, I found that my love had grown, and that this was definitely somewhere that I could spend the rest of my life. Some of my happiest memories are from that state. 

After a few more moves, I ended up in Florida. It’s a state. I never planned to move to, and have never been truly happy in. The Gulf is beautiful, rimmed by soft sugar white sands. But for a lot of the year, it is unbearably hot and humid. There are all kinds of bugs and flying insects and things that bite you. Worst of all are the hurricanes. Five months of the year is hurricane season, and you’re on edge the entire time.

After marrying my husband, he would take me up to his family‘s farm. I absolutely loved it! The peace. The quiet. There was no city noise. The noise was the rustling of the grasses. Insects murmuring. Distant coyotes. 

It smelled wonderful. Freshly turned dirt. Wildflowers. Clean air! 

As the sun set, we would watch the fireflies. Down in suburbia, they have been wiped out by lawn care business chemicals. 

It was then then I realized that I wanted to live in the country. 

I’m a country girl – I hate country music, I’m talking about a love for our country. For the beauty of houses that are miles from the next home. Gardens that are an acre large. Not having to buy heirloom roses because they grow in your yard. Peonies. Lilacs. This is where I want to live! 

You can find country spots in most of our nation – but I know that wherever we settle when we retire, this is where I wanna be. In the country. 

It’s a respite for me. I want a place where I can plant my roots deep, and our children can come and visit, bringing our grandchildren. 

I want the stability of having a forever home – even though it’s taking me most of my life to find it. 

It gives me great peace to know that I will be living in the country someday soon, and our children and grandchildren will be able to be excited to come and visit us, and make country memories that will last forever in their minds as well.

I’m making my plans now – plans that include homemade quilts. A rocking chair or two on the porch. Adirondack chairs that face the river.

It’s a future I can’t wait to meet.