preacher's kids, missionary kids & military brats

After I wrote my post about thanking certain people, I was overwhelmed with memories of so many more people I'd love to know again. 

For those who don't know...my entire extended family (both sides) are from Upstate South Carolina and I was fortunate enough to live there on and off....but my Father was a Baptist minister who couldn't stay put and I've lived all over the place.  Every time we moved, I found friends in other kids who frequently had to pack up and move on.  When I was in college, I wanted to do a study of these 3 groups (preacher's kids, missionary kids and military brats) and do some research as to how our upbringing impacts us.  Just like my Waffle House Documentary...I never quite got around to it. 

But I do know that it has made me crazy adaptable.  I can make friends in a snap.  I can find my way around most anywhere and I've known thousands of people.  Thousands.  I have loved so many people in my life I can't even remember them all.  There are very few people (can count on one hand that I feel some real ugly rage for...) that I cannot forgive.  And my whole extended family became my hometown.  Any time I see, talk or hear any of them, I feel like I'm on a street I grew up on.  This blessing cannot be overstated.

My memory has always been poor.  A lot of this has to do with moving around, but much more has to do with the fact that I live in my head and don't always pay a lot of attention.  Also, my Dad wasn't what you would call an easy person to live with...not spilling any secrets...just making it clear that he wasn't who he proclaimed to be.  We survived him and I certainly wouldn't be who I am without his influence--for good and ill.

Despite the fact that I am a speed reader and can intake information at crazy speeds, I cannot reach back into all the corners of my mind and find the faces and names that I loved...not all of them. 

PK's, MK's & MB's are kids who know what it is to walk into a lunchroom at a new school with a tray in hand, having no idea where to sit.  We know what it is to tell and re-tell your story over and over again.  We also develop either a) a profound sense of anti-authoritarianism or b) we follow in our families footsteps.  Take a guess where I ended up...

I have more to write about this subject and am content to have this time and space to share a bit of myself.  My life has been extraordinary.  I have been to 38 states, seven countries & and have done things I never would've imagined.  I'm not sure why I've become so reserved since I became a mother...fearful of what stories might reveal...but, I intend to venture further and further out.  I may live in the burbs, but I won't for too much longer and I will not be the one to censor myself any longer. 

One more thing about us involuntary gypsies...we get restless.  So, I'm off to pace the driveway.