This is the month of the military child.

When I was growing up, we were referred to as “Air Force Brats”. I was not offended.

I’m still not.

My mom was induced into labor to have me a little early, so my dad could see me before he went off to Vietnam.

The next time he saw me, I was walking.

I lived in several states before I could remember anything – although my first memory is as a babe in arms, coming off a plane with my mom. I remember seeing my dad, and my big brother with his crew cut.

From preschool through high school graduation, I attended seven schools, in five different states, and one foreign country. The first 18 years of my life were spent as a military dependent child.

I rarely saw extended family – we were always far away from them, and we certainly couldn’t travel around to see them. Grandparents were people who sent cards…sometimes with cash in them.

My dad went on several tours of duty by himself. These were the times the appliances broke, the car broke down, or one of us kids broke a bone. It never seemed to happen when he was home!

I grew up in the 1970’s and 1980’s, and there were no big family vacations to exotic locales. For us, the pop up camper was our weekend escape to campsites in our great nation. In 1977 we made a stop at Disney World before we flew 20 hours to our new assignment in the Pacific.

My mom didn’t work outside the home – she took care of us three children. That kept her plenty busy.

My oldest friend is a woman I met in ninth grade. The rest of my dear friends are from high school. We live all over the country now, but keep on touch. Those friends I made in school are part of my extended family.

Everyone responds to what life gives them differently. For me, being an Air Force Brat gave me a deep appreciation for military members and their spouses. It made me appreciate the blessings of being born in this great county.

God bless America, and our military.

Two of my kids are in military families now. I’m grateful for technology like FaceTime, so I can see them and my grandkids, wherever they go. It’s hard to be far away from them.

I’ve traveled more than most people, and I’m grateful for the experiences I’ve had as a military child.

I learned how to pick up and move, and how to start over midstream.

I long for the day we build our retirement home, and our kids and grandkids have a touchstone to go to.

I’ll never stop traveling, though.

I’ll go as long as I’m able to.