Home

One of the contractors who came to the house really got me thinking. He had been to Joplin 2 years ago, and Katrina, and other places hit by natural disasters, and the response of the people in Oklahoma, and also in Joplin and some other places, has been, 'Oh well, it happens.' This is J's whole motto through all this. Not, 'oh woe is me, feel bad for me, my life is over.' No, we rebuild. We are still here, we have our lives, we have each other. It sucks, but there's really not much you can do about it now, and life goes on. If anything, you are stronger, you are reminded of the goodness of humanity, and you are also reminded of the awesomeness and kindness of your family and friends. Now obviously it is different for those that did loose loved ones, but even through all that darkness, the community is coming together in support. Because this is what makes a home: not the house or belongings, but the people and community around you. Our house may be damaged, and we may have been temporarily displaced, but we weren't homeless. We have a network of friends and coworkers that supported us and took us into their homes. And most importantly we had each other. I still have a home 1,700 miles away, because that's where my family is, but Moore is also my home now. I used to go to the spouses meetings in Florida, and they once gave out these bookmarks with the "10 rules of Air Force Spouses." The first rule is just so true through all this: Home is wherever the Air Force sends you. You may not be able to pick where that is, but you can pick who you surround yourself with. It's so cliche, but it's so true. A house is just a house. You make it a home. When a house gets destroyed, you rebuild. Because things don't matter; people matter.