Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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Military Life: The Military Brat

4/25/2014

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Picture
I sat on the tarmac, a diaper bag full of toys and snacks at my side. My little girls toddled around me unaware of what was about to happen. Meanwhile, uniformed men and women checked in, registered duffel bags, and bustled from place to place in preparation to board the cargo jets waiting to take them to a Middle Eastern desert. Families were scattered around the tarmac with me, waiting to say goodbye. When it was time, my husband came over to us, picked up our oldest daughter and the diaper bag while I carried the little one. He and I held hands, not speaking. We stopped at the end of the line for the bus to take him to the plane and he leaned close, kissing the top of the little one's head while she quietly watched him and sucked on her pacifier. He hugged the oldest, nuzzled her neck and told her goodbye, then he tried to hand her to me. She threw her chubby little arms around his neck and latched on tight, refusing to let him go. He pried her arms from him and handed her to me. She kicked and screamed and as he turned away, she shouted, "Don't go Daddy! Don't leave me!" The little one, who had remained quiet up to that point, began to wail at seeing her sister in such distress. My husband turned away and focused on what was ahead of him, not looking back. I stumbled my way to the car with two screaming, crying babies. I don't know how we made it home, but after that first deployment, my husband didn't ask us to come and see him off again for subsequent deployments, instead slipping out of the house while the children were sleeping.

. Military children are very special to me for all of the things they must endure throughout their childhood. They learn early how to fit in almost anywhere, how to make new friends, and how to say goodbye. They learn to thrive wherever they are planted and they learn about hope, sacrifice and honor. April is the month of the military child.  To all of the military brats, young, old, and every age in between, I salute your courage, your strength and thank you for the light you shine on this great Nation. And to MY two military brats, thank you for the comfort and strength you gave to me while we rode out the storms together. I couldn't have done it without  you!

(Untitled) - A poem about the military brat:

My hometown is nowhere, my friends are everywhere. 
I grew up with the knowledge that home is where the heart is 
and the family.... 

Mobility is my way of life. 
Some would wonder about roots, yet they are as deep and strong 
as the mighty oak. I sink them quickly, absorbing all an area offers 
and hopefully, giving enrichment in return. 

Travel has taught me to be open. 
Shaking hands with the universe, I find brotherhood in all men. 
Farewells are never easy. 
Yet, even in sorrow comes strength and ability to face tomorrow 
with anticipation....if when we leave one place, 
I feel that half my world is left behind. I also know that 
the other half is waiting to be met. 

Friendships are formed in hours and kept for decades. 
I will never grow up with someone, but I will mature with many. 
Be it inevitable that paths part, there is constant hope 
that they will meet again. 

Love of country, respect and pride 
fill my being when Old Glory passes in review. 
When I stand to honor that flag, so also do I stand in honor of all 
soldiers, and most especially, to the parents whose life created mine 
Because of this, I have shared in the rich heritage of Military life. 

Anonymous

*Poem found at www.operationwearehere.com/militarypoemsessays.html

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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery