I spent a great deal of my married life, at least the early formative wifely years as a Navy wife, toughest job in the Navy it said on the Commisary bags. Then it started to say Navy spouse, and then it just shut up about such things on the grocery bags. But there was the good, the bad and the ugly about Navy life.
We lived on bases and moved every three or four years or more often sometimes. Sometimes half of our stuff was stored somewhere for 3 or 4 years and some of it never arrived back with us. They totalled our couch at least twice, but they never gave us a dime for the antique dresser that had been in my husband's family for years that was destroyed.
We made do and we lived through it. It never seemed like it paid to get too attached to anything because we might never see it again after the next move. Or it might have water damage or be smashed. Usually I hired someone to do the final cleaning on the base house when I moved. It was just easier to pass inspection that way.
There were good parts. But the bad ones were never really belonging or being settled. Scrambling for a job and taking the first thing that showed up. Very, very bad health care with few other options. Loneliness and homesickness and being forgotten by the people back home that you still really cared about. It was hard being a Navy wife.
But the best parts were the other wives with whom I shared so much of my life. The best part was deciding to make a difference in my community and then working to do that. The best part was that I picked up a few too many treasures and lots and lots of memories on the way. As lost and wandering in the desert as I was sometimes during my years as a military spouse, the Lord was always there calling me back to Him.
And through all those years as a Navy wife, I never, ever washed windows. It is a hard habit to break, the not window washing thing.