My routine this year was much the same as last year. I arrived early to help set up and stake out a piece of grass for the evening.
I worked at the spouses club booth selling candy and light-up toys. I joined my friends for a picnic dinner entirely too elaborate for the setting (a consequence of bored women stuck without jobs).
We talked the best we could over too-loud bands playing American classic rock and salsa music until it was time for fireworks.
So much was the same, but everything was different. Other than me, not a single person sitting around our blanket was on the island last year. Chris was in Afghanistan (three of our friends are there this year),
and the rest of the families have only recently come to the island. Nearly everyone who was with me last year has since moved on to other countries and other corners of the world. Such is the ever-changing nature of this Air Force life.
As with many events we’ve attended lately, this one had a bittersweet tone. The last of something before we move on too.
Oh my goodness, I can't believe that was already a year ago. Miss you!
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