Military Families

I stare down at the sink to avoid eye contact. The only sound between us is the lazy drip of water on porcelain. I can’t take the silence, so I look up at her. “When did you become my worst enemy?“ Her cold, blank expression stares back at…

If a picture is worth a thousand words, consider the power of our memories that linger like hazy images until they are resurrected by the smell of burned rubber or bug spray, the nostalgic power of a song, or the sound of helicopters…

The Department of Defense (DOD) has quietly implemented controversial adolescent health policies throughout the military health system (MHS) that kick in when children turn 12 years old. Because the official policies are hard to find and…

I fold my hands over my pregnant belly and shift in search of a comfortable position in an uncomfortable chair. My body feels the stress of the nearly full-term baby, but my brain is blissfully unaware of the full weight of impact the child…

I met Lt. Col. Benjamin Palmer when he took command of my first fleet unit in the summer of 2009. Later that year, I attended a Christmas party at his home, a place filled with family photographs and collages from each of his duty stations…

At a point in time some five or so years ago, I found myself at a party early in my first semester of college. It was supposed to be some introductory thing for the people in our dorm to get to know one another, and to this day I still…

One minute.I can breathe. Inhale for four beats, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four, then repeat. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Our front yard is filled with mourners, all in black. A bead of sweat rolls down the nape of my neck, melting…

He stood in front of me in a pile of his own vomit. The remnants of his bottle and bile were spattered down his shirt, and he screamed that he wanted spaghetti for dinner. At the same time, no more than three feet away, sat a plate of…

For decades, dawn brought the clarion bugle call of reveille across the lush campus of the Veterans Home of California in Yountville, 60 miles north of San Francisco. The residents, the earliest among them veterans of the Mexican-American…

It’s Saturday morning in Lynchburg, Virginia, shortly before sunrise. I lace my Nikes and head out the door for a weekly run with my dad. I’m 12 years old.I tiptoe down the steps and gently open and close the front door so I don’t disturb…