As I was walking through the commissary today, I ran into a woman who was wearing an Oregon Ducks lanyard around her neck. I asked her if she was an Oregonian, or just a fan of the college team, and she said that she is actually from Oregon. When I mentioned one of the towns I lived in, her face lit up because she grew up just a few miles away from there. We talked for a few minutes, blocking traffic in the store, until I gave her my e-mail address. She needed to go meet her friend, and I could get my husband off to work. I hope that she writes to me; it would be wonderful to make a new friend from home.
It was so nice to meet someone who grew up near me. Most of the people I know here are either military or natives. With military families, I have only a 1/50 chance of meeting another Oregonian, so most of my military friends don't understand why Oregon is so important to me. Even well-traveled Midwestern people don't understand what it's like to grow up with mountains in your backyard, since this part of the country is relatively flat. To most of the people here, mountains are things you visit in other states, and while I respect their happiness with their home state, this is just not where I belong.
Sweetie is retiring in about 18 months. We are finally going to be able to choose our next location, although his job skills are in areas that aren't exactly common in the civilian world. I'm mature enough to realize that going home is probably not going to be an option for us right now, but I'm certainly going to keep my eyes open for possible jobs in the Pacific Northwest.
It would be awesome to go home for good. After more than four decades of roaming the country, I'm ready to settle down.
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