I always resented being called a brat, but today when my dad (who just got back home two days ago) told me he was leaving again this week and would be gone for Thanksgiving, I realized I fit that description quite well. The little girl inside me put her brat face on and said “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE GONE FOR THANKSGIVING??? You just got back and I never get to see you and I thought you would be home for the holidays!” I’ve only seen him for a total of 37 minutes since he got back, and now he tells me he’s leaving again. My heart sank inside, but I have to put on my military face and go on. It certainly makes it harder around the holidays. Why is it still so hard? I was born into the military, I should be used to this lifestyle, but it doesn’t seem to get easier.
I only spent a few minutes in self-pity before I was reminded of others who have and are sacrificing so much more than I am. My dad is going on a med-evac mission to bring wounded soldiers home. He could have been one of those wounded GI’s coming home, or he could be one of those heroes who will never come home. But he’s not. He’s alive and well. So why am I complaining that he’s leaving again? I should be grateful I still have a dad.
This Thanksgiving and Christmas, my heart goes out to the lonely families in this country because of our brave servicemen and women who are gone. Please don’t forget to pray for our military and reach out to families who don’t feel like celebrating Christmas because daddy won’t be there. It’s a difficult time for them.
I’m proud to be an American and I’m proud that my dad is a part of the United States Air Force.
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