In 1994 my father enlisted into the Marine Corps at 17 years old. Two years later I was born into a military family. I would be lying if I said that this didn’t shape who I am today, because it did and for that I have my Daddy to thank.
Throughout my life the only men I had ever been around dressed in either Dessert or Woodland Cammies. It was normal to have my dad’s Marines over on the weekends for dinner or on holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. These men always had a place at our dinner table and ten years later they still stop by time to time. They are family, Gunny isn’t only my dad he was their dad too. This is where my definition of family came from. It’s that tight bond the Marine Wives form or the bond my family has with those young Marines from my father’s platoon. They are whom I call my uncles. They are who I call about school and the questions I have about what I’m learning in Arabic or French, because lord knows I need all the help I can get. These men are the ones who take my brother hunting, and tell us stories about the “hard-ass” my dad used to be. Family isn’t always blood, it’s the people who are willing to lay down their life for our freedom. This definition of family isn’t the only thing that being the daughter of a Marine taught me.
My favorite memory as a child was the first time I heard Toby Keith’s song “American Solider." Songs like this can make a tear fall to my cheek faster than any sappy chick flick. This is real life to me. When I was going through school, I took pride in every word of the National Anthem and said every word of the Pledge of Allegiance with passion. I still get offended at ball games when people won’t take their hats off or continue a conversation as the national anthem plays throughout the stadium. It disgusts me. It takes every ounce of self-control I have to contain myself, and on some occasions, a comment or two tends to slip. Mind you, my daddy didn’t take any shit so I learned self-control and to watch my sass before I could tie my own shoes. My papa, daddy, cousins, and every male figure I’ve had in my life has served to keep this country safe and free. So try to show some respect. Being the daughter of a Marine taught me to be proud. This pride is consuming.
Initially, I didn’t realize how independent being a military brat has made me. But lord knows it did. With my dad being deployed countless times, mom was left with the job of two parents. I couldn’t let her do it alone. She only had two hands. So I stepped up. In middle school, I could run the house, balance a checkbook and everything short of pay the bills. I was mom’s right-hand man. She taught me it all. Now I am 19 years old and all my friends call me “mom” because I tend to micro manage and be the voice of reason. Daddy can’t understand why I am all grown up and not the 8 year old he tries so hard for me to be. But I did it for him. Some people think we military children should resent our parents for “taking away our childhood.” But that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Hell no. I thank my Daddy for his sacrifices and service. I apologize for the things he had to endure. Most of all he is my hero. The Marine Corps pays for the clothes on my back, the house I live in and the food on the table. They even paid for that table we eat at every Sunday. I am blessed that my daddy gave me the opportunity to grow as a person and learn what independence was. Being the daughter of a Marine taught me to be strong, strong spirited, and strong-minded.
Every time I see an American flag flying, I am instantly flooded with gratification. That means we are still free, and for that I thank my daddy because being the daughter of that Marine made me, me.
