Change is Good.

These words, displayed on a man's T-shirt, followed me around the gym recently. As I chest pressed, he shoulder pressed. I leg curled and he calf raised, affording me sufficient time to fully digest the message.

Change is Good. In theory, it's true, but when it's happening to you, change can be unsettling. For military families, change occurs frequently.

Life becomes an endless stream of new assignments, deployments and moves.

Summer is typically transition time in the Marine Corps. Moving trucks regularly lurch through Camp Pendleton neighborhoods as families say goodbye or hello. In June, I said farewell to Cindy and Pete as they set out for Virginia. Jennifer and Trevor headed to the nation's capital, and just weeks later, Erica and Vince moved into their vacant home. One morning, Tony and Anita lived across the street. A truck came, and by the next morning, they were gone.

In a few weeks, the truck will stop in front of my home. It will load up and transfer my world to Twentynine Palms.

Before accepting a position in Twentynine Palms, my husband suggested we visit the area to see if I could "handle" living in the Mojave Desert.

As we drove the main drag, I wondered. Could I handle the absence of buildings taller than three stories? How could I slumber without the roar of traffic outside my window? Tumbleweeds rolled alongside the car. A road runner dashed across the street. My lips were instantly chapped. So much sun and sand, but there was no beach in sight. Could I handle it?

The Marine Corps didn't consider whether or not Capt. Sokol's wife could handle the desert. The deal was done, and ever since, I've tried to focus on the bright side of this move. First, the slower pace of desert living holds a certain appeal. I figure I'll never rush anywhere, mostly because there doesn't appear to be anywhere to rush to.

During my husband's deployments to Iraq, I longed to just be a family again. Now, we'll have that opportunity. We can gaze at the starry desert sky and hike the trails of Joshua Tree National Park together. We can enjoy the simple but magnificent pleasures of open space and clean air.

Truthfully, we'll miss Orange County and will look forward to another tour at Camp Pendleton. We'll miss our friends and relatives, our church, our "secret" beach and our favorite restaurants. It's time to say goodbye, but thanks to the editors of this paper, I won't have to say goodbye to this column. Following a month hiatus, my words will continue to appear here each Wednesday.

Change is Good, I keep telling myself. After the movers finished boxing my friend Jennifer's possessions, we embraced. "We have such adventure ahead of us," she said, with a gleam in her eye. We certainly do.

Here's to hoping that change is good.