Nomads

I started to wonder if we were chronically nomadic - if we had moved so often that mentally we would always be looking ahead to the next place.

Before California we had never in our 12 year marriage spent Christmas in the same house two years in a row. The kids were slightly proud of this statistic and repeated it to their friends. By Christmas 2001 we all felt as though we had accomplished something - two Christmases, one house... just barely.

But we talked about moving all the time. Partly it was a poor mental framework that started when we took the job in California. We knew we weren't going to get back to Alaska (AKA The Promised Land, or if Kirk were feeling Norse, Valhalla), but West Coast was mandatory, and the farther north the better. Moss Beach was barely within our tolerance zone and we moved with that in mind. Sure it was beautiful, sure the people were great, but it wasn't perfect it wasn't ideal, it wasn't home.

Looking at it now I think the problem wasn't geographic at all. Kirk was unhappy with his work - he was underused and unchallenged, and deeply disatisfied. He had felt he had nothing left to prove after the Air Force - he said as much to me - but post 9-11 I think somewhere was the feeling that he did have something left to give.

But all of that was so tenuous that the only thing we knew was something wasn't right with where we were.

So we talked about moving, all the time putting down deeper and firmer roots without realizing it. Maybe that's the problem with being a nomad - when you do find home, you don't recognize it.