Champagne Friday: A Toast to Our Military Kid

Because April is, among many other things, the Month of the Military Child, tomorrow afternoon our unit will gather to recognize and celebrate our military children. I've spent this week preparing gifts and buying the ice cream for our little party. But even as we don our purple (the chosen color to represent military kids as it is a combination of the colors from each branch of service) and dish out the treats, somehow it still doesn't feel like enough. As I tossed and turned until 2 AM on Wednesday night, I thought about what life has been like for the past 6 years. This doesn't describe every military kid, but it does tell the story of ours.

Sweet boy, since your first day here,
this life is all you've known.
Though we may live far and wide,
we'll make this place your home.

As a baby when you napped,
the jets crossed overhead.
And at night when they played Taps,
we snuggled you in bed.

Your first steps were on a battlefield,
where men laid down their lives.
You squealed with joy as Daddy kneeled,
teetering, tottering, then a nosedive.

You've reached for a stranger's desert boots,
and tried on Daddy's dog tags for size.
You've stopped during Retreat to salute,
as pride welled up in our eyes.

You've moved five times in five years,
said goodbye to everyone you knew.
Acknowledged then faced all your fears,
You're brave even when you feel blue. 

You never signed up for this,
it was something you were born into.
We talk about the friends that we'll miss,
and the new ones we know we'll meet, too.

There's much to be learned from a mil-kid;
our "dandelions", they're considered.
Teaching us to bloom like they did,
resilient and hardy, not withered.

Today we packed up his toys,
his stuffies, games and the books.
We made some notes for his teachers,
took the coats down off of the hooks.

We're checking each box off the list,
taking pictures to help us remember.
Squeezing in the things we've missed,
Wishing we had until September.

On the hard days he still stops to ask,
When can we not move anymore?
When can this be the last?
Can we live in the woods by the shore?

Then I distract him with stories
of generations who came before him.
Soldiers who fought for Old Glory,
a family tree of honorable men.

When it's all said and done he will know,
he will have more than a thought or a clue.
That we are all in this together,
because he has served honorably, too.

To all of our military children, who serve involuntarily in an all-volunteer force, we love you!