Growing up in a military family definitely has its ups and downs. In my situation, my father is an army reservist and has been all of my life. That pretty much entails him going away for weekend drills, sometimes week long training and of course the occasional deployment.
When I was very young, I don't remember this having a very big influence on me, although I'm sure it did. For certain times, my mother was home alone, and working and raising three children, which we all can recognize as being a difficult task.
As late childhood came along, I started feeling the mixed emotions that came with my parent always having to leave. Being somewhat of a "daddy's girl," this was very hard for me. Not to forget the impact it had on my younger siblings and mother. I was at the age where I was realizing what he was actually doing. I would ask questions and all of my elementary school science fair projects were on the countries my dad was in. Now I was also recognizing my feelings, and to have someone that was such an important part of my life just leave would send me on an emotional roller coaster.
During my elementary school years, my father spent two years in Afghanistan, one year in Iraq, a few months in Italy and Germany, then went for his Masters Degree in Kansas. This was all at a time when cell phones and Skype weren't very big, so when you got that phone call maybe once or twice a deployment, you would want to talk for hours. Unfortunately, though, his time on the phone was limited, and sometimes you would miss those phone calls that you would do anything to answer.
On my birthday, for some of the years he was gone, he would call, and of course sometimes I would miss it. The voicemails from Turkey and Kabul, however, would help me get through the long times when I could not hear his voice and be waiting for another call.
When he came home, my mom would always throw big parties, and we would make signs and dress up in our "pickle suits" to wait at the airport. These were the moments when no matter what age you were, you were just flooded with emotions of happiness and relief when you saw him step off that plane. However, that also meant you would eventually have to watch him take off again, and sitting in the waiting room watching him leave would hit you like a ton of bricks.
To this day, I am 21 years old and still have difficulties dealing with my father leaving. Whether it is for a weekend or two weeks, in the country or even my home state, I can't get over the emotions that always occur when he leaves.
I wouldn't want to change what I had to grow up with for the world and cherish everything that my family has gone through for this country. I am grateful for my father and all that he has done, but if I could just delete the emotions that come along with it, I would in an instant.
