Memorial Day

homeI grew up the child of a submariner. I won’t say a “Navy brat.” My dad was enlisted and none of us were allowed to be brats. But we were fortunate to have a wonderful life as a result of his service. My dad is blessedly still alive (and happily with my mom after 52 years of marriage), so every Memorial Day I say “thank you” — to my dad (and my mom) and those who have served, are serving, and help keep the families together during all that service. Military families are a special bunch. They move a lot. Spouses are alone a lot. Children don’t know who to believe is the “authoritarian” parent.My mom scared the bejeezus out of us. But then my dad came home and he expected every order to be obeyed. It’s tough when you’re 7. But we figured it out. I had two younger brothers while my father served. My third brother was born when he retired from the U.S. Navy. My dad wasn’t even 40 (if you’re doing the math, my dad may have fudged on his age a bit at enlistment, but what do I know). Continue reading

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