Brat Facts

I come from this close-knit family of Brats.
Military Brats, that is.

We go through all of the horrors a military family entails. We face the hardships of our parent being gone for many months at a time and having to learn how to be strong without them.
Sometimes. . . It's a nightmare.

But despite all of the troubled skies that we most often have to face, I know I wouldn't trade this life for anything.



*Cover created by Infinite_Exho

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25. Fact 21: Not Knowing Where Home Is.

I remember the days where I would be driving on post with my cousin(Atla) and my uncle, and as we would wait at the gate as the cars were scanned and then passed through, we would have our IDs at the ready and as we got to the person scanning our IDs, he or she would nod at my uncle and say, "Have a great day, Master Sergeant. Welcome home."

And as soon as my uncle rolled up the truck's window, he would say, "This ain't my home! They need to stop saying that to me."

I didn't really understand why he was so upset with them saying that to him, but as I thought about it, I started to understand.

 

We don't really have a place to call home.

 

I mean, until recently, I didn't even have a permanent residence to call my own, as this is the first house I have ever owned in my entire life.

 

I always just used to consider Oklahoma my home because that's where I was born, but that never seemed right.

Then I would call Fairchild, Air Force Base my home because that's where I lived the longest, but that didn't seem right either.

Or I would consider Fort Lost-In-The-Woods my home because it was the most memorable to me and I made lasting friends, but still, that didn't sit right with me as well.

 

Our home is nowhere. 

 

Yet. . . It is everywhere.

 

Our home is scattered away in the backs of moving trucks.

Our home is in the footprints that we left on the concrete walkway of a temporary place to live in base housing when we were little.

Our home is on the many planes we've flown on as we were transferred over the pond.

Our home is in the red, white, and blue flags waving high above the many buildings across the towns.

 

Our home is wherever the military takes us.

 

In the backyards of the many houses we've lived.

In the pictures that our parents took with them overseas.

In the youth centers most of us had gone to.

In the dog tags that were given to us when our parent returned home.

In the skype calls and phone calls and letters received from all around the world where our family member might be.

In the many schools we attended while growing up.

 

A Brat's home is wherever there is always a flag forever flying high in the wind and you stand for the national anthem before a movie.

Where you always have to have an ID present and you feel the deepest pride for those who fight for you.

 

A Brat's home is where we are engulfed in the seas of camouflage we grew up in.

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