By Terri Barnes

When we moved from Georgia to California a couple of assignments ago, we drove cross-country to our new home – with stops in Louisiana, Oklahoma, Colorado, Nevada and a few other states. We visited with military friends at almost every stop.

When we arrived in California, I told my new neighbor in base housing about our trek.

“Leaving Georgia was hard for our kids,” I said. “I think this trip was good for them, because they saw that we can keep the friends we leave behind. When we say goodbye, it’s not forever.”

She looked at me blankly and said, “Oh, really? I thought it was.” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know anyone could survive a transient military life without staying connected to the people who become part of our lives at each assignment.

One day, about two years later, I was driving down Pacific Coast Highway when my cell phone rang. I was enroute to AAA to get my international driver’s license in preparation for our next move – to Germany.

It was my friend Nancy calling from Louisiana. Knowing about our upcoming move, Nancy, an Air Force wife, called to tell me about another military friend of hers, Sheila, whose family was also moving to Germany.

When we arrived there, we found that Sheila and her family lived down the street from us. We became close friends, sharing sporting events, holidays and many milestones.

Sheila introduced me to Bonnie and Kelly, and we became a regular foursome for lunchtime celebrations of our birthdays or just being together.

Old friendships beget new ones and provide comfort when you haven’t made new friends yet. The world seems smaller when your friendships stretch around the globe.

I’m a military brat from a military town.

My daughter had a middle school friend in Germany whose family had been stationed in my hometown. She attended the elementary school where my sister is a fourth grade teacher. I told her my sister’s name, and the girl exclaimed, “She was my favorite teacher ever!” Small world.

I’m visiting home now, sipping cappuccino in my favorite coffee shop.
The new barrista, Janie, is a young Air Force wife. She’s really a teacher, but her husband is only here for four months of pilot training.
She decided to utilize her espressive talents rather than complain about having nothing to do in this small farm town.

As we chatted, the owner of the coffee shop and another customer joined in. We found we each had a military connection: one retired airman, a widow of a civil service employee and two military wives.

“You don’t have an accent at all,” said a customer to Janie after learning she came from Ohio by way of Tennessee. Traveling smoothes the edges off those regional distinctives, we agreed.

When this column goes to press, we’ll be back in Germany – in a new assignment and a new home. In some ways, we’re starting over again, but not really. We don’t wipe the slate clean when we move, and thank heaven for that.

The sad goodbyes of our recent move are still fresh, but the comfort of friendship is worth it, even when the friends are no longer nearby.

Cleaning out cabinets in preparation for this move, I rediscovered the nursery music box used by all of our babies. I wound it up, and as I listened, I realized how appropriate the tune was for our three military children. The tune played, and the words ran through my head: “It’s a small world after all.”

With friends all over, yes, it is.

Terri Barnes is a military wife and mother of three. She lives and writes in Germany, or wherever she happens to be. Write to her at spousecalls@stripes.com.