This is it…Year 3…our ‘Last Call’. Our last Oktoberfest, our last Weihnachten, our last European summer.
In my experience, Last Calls open the flood gates of decision. Belly up to the bar and throw back one more, or not? Give this guy my real phone number, or a fake one? Move on to another stop, or go home? How are we going to get home, anyways?
Then the lights come on, the unspoken signal for “time to move on”. You see everything from a different perspective, including any poor decisions already made. The drink you spilled actually landed on your shirt, not on the floor. The tab adds up to three digits, instead of two. The South Beach club you paid a $20 cover charge for, plus $15/drink, is actually just a bunch of spray-painted bed sheets hung inside a warehouse. (Don’t ever stay past Last Call on South Beach…ever.)
Knowing that a PCS (Permanent Change of Station, for most of the world that is not well-versed in military acronyms) is eminent is just like Last Call. The decisions start to roll in. Rent or buy? Which is more important: living somewhere we enjoy, or having a job he enjoys? Which pieces of household crap do I feel like moving across the country (or world) again?
Then the official orders arrive and the ‘lights’ come on…it’s time to move on. The little quirks of a place that were endearing when you first arrived, now seem annoying. You wonder if the friendships you made will survive the “military” test of time. You start mentally and emotionally checking-out of the place you are in and checking-into the place you are going. The last month is total limbo: you are neither here nor there. You are in PCS.
This time, it has to be different. I don’t want the luster of my tiny German town to wear off. I want to cherish the last twelve deployment-free months with my husband. Most importantly, I don’t want to look back and realize that I spent my last year in Germany planning the future, instead of enjoying the present.
A toast then! To Last Calls. To one more year of European adventures. Here’s to delaying huge life changes as long as possible. Prost!
Reading your stories brought tears to my eyes. How fast the time goes. I will always cherish my moments at the Goethe Institut. The beginning of what was and is also my German Geschichte. I will never forget you introducing yourself outside the hässlicher Telecom building. “Thank gawd there is some one from my side of the ocean”, I thought. I remember the feelings of vulnerability, fear, excitement. It was like going to high school for the first time. We were both full of possibilities. From beers at the Schlappen to sushi to daily lunches together, you were my “home base” and for that I will always be grateful. I have witnessed your adventures through Facebook and an sad that this chapter has come to an end, but I will always remember my cute blond “from the other side of the ocean” sister with the strong American accent. Thank you for bring part of MY German Geschichte. All the best on the next step in your beautiful life story.