Home

Rigel and I drove back to Paris, Arkansas, this weekend to visit the family. And while I'm in my parents' house, it feels like home. It feels the same as when I lived here. My mom hugs me good night. My dad falls asleep in his chair and snores. Although we've been banished into the back room for bed. The other bedroom is made up within an inch of it's life. Neither my brother nor I sleep there when we come home. But all in all, it feels like home.

Until I leave the house. So much of this little town has changed. The stores have come and gone. The roads have changed. There are stop signs where there weren't stop signs. The tiny Wal-Mart sells beer now! Old houses have come down. Doughnut shops have gone up in their place. The middle school is now the high school.

I drove through my old college town, Fayetteville, on the way here, just for fun. A lot of it has changed. They finally put a stop sign up at Leverett and Razorback. There are huge tall cranes building more and more around campus. More classrooms. More dorms housing the students that will walk the same paths I did for 6 years.

Nothing stays the same. Change is good. But there's a part of me that wants something to stay the same. With the life Joe and I have chosen, everything will change on a regular basis. Houses. Duty stations. Jobs. Bosses. Towns. Doctors. Vets. Scenery. Mountains. Plains. Trees. We'll soon trade in our field and sandals for snow capped mountains and snow boots.

But I guess it is what it is, right? Change IS good. And we can see the nation one PCS at a time. And I can always come home to this odd little town and my nice little house. And my crazy parents. Who will never change.

Until that one awful day that it does change, Rigel's wine box will always be in the window to greet us.