Anyone who has been part of a wedding knows things don’t always go according to plan … and these imperfections are later the most memorable and humorous aspects of the special day.
Last Sunday, I got a little blue. This is not a new phenomenon. I have struggled with mood swings on Sundays for as long as I can remember. Even as a child, I recall waking up Sunday mornings with a complex feeling of dread (knowing that Monday was just around the corner) and relief that I had another weekend day to enjoy.
The TV series “Outlander” is a big obsession with me and many of my friends. It is so popular, I believe, not only because of its historical richness, but because it provides a delicious escape from our modern problems and concerns.
I recently profiled three young women and their battles with breast cancer in the Aug. 27 issue of “Homefront.” To raise awareness, they are participating in the Susan G. Komen “Race for the Cure” in Waco on Saturday. Speaking with each of these gals individually and learning about their personal experiences with this disease was a privilege and I left feeling inspired and humbled. Since one in eight women will battle breast cancer during their lifetime, it is critical that we continue to talk about this disease. I asked each woman what the “best” and “worst” part of having cancer has been. I also asked them to share any advice for someone newly diagnosed with breast cancer.
For military families, it’s a no-brainer to say that change is inevitable. Not only are we expected to adjust to a new state, city, post or base every couple of years, but a new neighborhood as well.
Everyone can name a chore that fills them with dread and for me, that chore is grocery shopping. There is something about the process that makes me want to volunteer for a root canal instead, or even endure several hours of watching golf on television. Yes, it’s that bad. I try to analyze my strong negative feelings toward this innocent task and all I can come up with is that I am simply not the grocery-shopping “type.” First of all, planning dinners doesn’t come naturally to me. Being a rather spontaneous gal in many respects, the act of sitting at the kitchen table and guessing what I think we’ll want to eat each night of the week seems to require superpowers to achieve.
When one reads about horrendous crimes that happen to other people, it’s human nature to believe things like that will never happen to you or even to anyone you know. One example is the recent murder of the young, pregnant Marine wife in Twentynine Palms, Calif.
I was shopping in the PX the other day when I overheard a family squabble. At first, the voices were fairly low and reasonable but they quickly got louder, particularly the man’s. I assumed he was the father but since they were in the aisle behind me, I wasn’t sure. He seemed to be reprimanding his daughter. Then I heard a smacking sound and a muffled cry and the father said something like, “I told you to knock it off three times but you wouldn’t listen.”
The change of command is over, one set of my in-laws left after many hugs and more than a few tears, and Rob’s deployment is only a handful of days away. (My mother-in-law kindly stayed on a few extra days so Rob and I could escape to Austin for an overnight). But I don’t need a calendar to realize he’s leaving soon. I know it by the permanent lump in my throat, by the way I’m sleeping (not well) and the general uneasiness that lingers.
One of the first questions that comes up when you’re meeting someone new is, “Where are you from?” This is a perfectly reasonable question and it usually requires a simple answer. Except for people like me. When you’ve lived in roughly seven states over the course of your childhood and you are not an Army brat, it can be a tough question to answer.
The Warrior Way Express got a makeover recently and celebrated Thursday with free hot dogs, drinks and other specials.
This past weekend, we had a very nice family over for dinner. I had never met them and my husband had only briefly met the man, but by the end of the evening, I felt like we’d made new friends. The man is Rob’s replacement. On July 30, he will take command of the 89th Military Police Brigade and my husband will step down. And so will begin a new chapter.
Saturday’s catastrophic water main accident causing a loss of 20 million gallons of water was a wake-up call for me, and I would imagine, many others.
Smoking and the military is in the news again, and I’m trying to decide how I feel about it.
Fort Hood’s annual Fourth of July celebration kicks off with a Color Run and ends with a 30-minute fireworks display. In between will be plenty of music to keep the crowd happy.
For weeks now, my husband has been urging me to watch a certain reality show on TV called “Naked and Afraid.”
Our pre-deployment family vacation to Montana is less than two weeks away and I, for one, am ready to go. It’s funny — when I’ve mentioned where we’re going, some people have given me a blank stare, as in “why would you want to go there?”
This is the time of year when moving vans are a fixture on-post, both coming and going.
Military families looking to learn about a variety of subjects, including art, flight, military history and trains, can visit some Texas museums free of charge this summer.
As Father’s Day approaches, I am filled with great appreciation for my husband, Rob, as well as a growing sadness.
A dream brought Andrea Fleming and her family to Killeen. She and her family had moved back to Germany following her husband’s retirement from the Army when she had an epiphany.
Getting people outdoors and teaching them a little about fishing were the goals of the first Family Fishing Clinic on Saturday at Cantonment B pond in Killeen.
Describing it as “the pain and the privilege to serve,” Maj. Khallid Shabazz summed up being a military spouse neatly at the Fort Hood Military Spouse Appreciation Day Luncheon held Friday at Club Hood.