I did not grow up in a military family. We moved two blocks when I was six years old, and my parents still live in that house. I grew up in a community of married high school sweethearts, and most of my good friends went back there after school and are now raising their children in the midst of each other.
I am not going to lie, it makes me a little jealous. OK, sometimes it makes me really jealous.
This military life is a strange one, but we are all in it together. We move a lot, we meet new people, we forge new paths … over and over and over. They say it takes a village, and I am grateful to say that no matter where the Air Force takes us, military moms are my village.
Military moms, this is for you:
To the military mom who brought me lunch and magazines after I had my first baby and my family was 5000 miles away, you are my village.
To the military mom who watched that baby a couple of months later, so my husband and I could attend his squadron Christmas party, you are my village.
To the military mom who watched our dog, so we could travel while living overseas, you are my village.
To the military mom who took my little boys while my husband was deployed, so my daughter and I could go on a girls trip, you are my village.
And to the military mom who called that same weekend to tell us that our sweet dog was dying, took the dog to the vet, and cried with me on the phone, you are my village.
To the military mom who took my kids last minute because something came up, you are my village.
To the military mom who came over on Mother’s Day while my husband was gone and watched my kids for a few hours while I went for a long run, you are my village.
To the military mom who stopped by with iced coffee when I was stuck in the house with two small children and a newborn, you are my village.
To the military mom who brought her family to a party for our child whose birthday always seems to fall right after a PCS, you are my village.
To the military mom who ran to the airport to pick up my mom while a stomach flu took over our house, you are my village.
To the military mom who stepped in last minute to watch our daughter while I was in labor with our second, you are my village.
And to that military mom who planned on taking our daughter and tried her best to rearrange her schedule to be there, you are my village.
To the military mom who took our TWO kids so we could have a third, you are my village.
To the military mom who drove us to the airport as we got ready to PCS away from a country we grew to love, you are my village.
To the military mom who invited me to lunch when I was new, you are my village.
To the military mom who answered endless questions about our new home, you are my village.
To the military mom who offered to watch my newborn so I could attend a child-free school performance at my kids’ school, you are my village.
To the military moms who have held my hand when I was sad, celebrated with me when something wonderful happened, and have been there for THOSE moments at THAT duty station, you are my village.
I hope I have been the same for you.
As the military life would have it, I do not live near any of these moms now. My village is constantly changing. I know that I will continue to find that new village with every move and won’t ever forget the ones from before.
And I know the same is true for you.
