News

It's Military Spouse Appreciation Day and we are lucky to have an opportunity to share a guest blog post by Alison Buckholtz, a military spouse extraordinaire! 

Author Alison Buckholtz has a gift - she is an unbelievably talented writer who has shared her experiences in a must-read book called "Standing By: The Making of an American Military Family in a Time of War."  You can win a signed copy ... read how! 

Estee Moran took a special trip to Acadia National Park.  She wanted to share a bit about what she learned on her vacation.  Check out her photos and her cheeky captions. 

"Awwww MOM ... I don't wanna go to a National Park!"  Hear how this familiar sound turns out for one military family. 

Suicide rates in the military continue to cause concern, and a new public service announcement being filmed this week by members of The Creative Coalition, aims to help service members, veterans and their families reach out for help. Utilizing the arts as a powerful vehicle to create public awareness, The Creative Coalition was asked to take on the project by Blue Star Families (BSF), Health Net and Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors (TAPS).

The clapping, the hooting, the whistling: It was all very familiar. As I hurried toward the terminal at Baltimore-Washington Airport, where U.S. troops land after serving overseas, I spotted the cheerful retirees from Operation Welcome Home who applaud each service member returning from deployment.

I never saw it coming. Then again, I didn't grow up with pets. I bought Ethan, now 7 years old, and Estee, now 5, a guinea pig when their dad deployed last summer, and last week we acquired a second guinea pig, a surprise birthday gift from a family friend. One of the neighbors, a slightly older boy named Sam, was playing at our house when the new rodent made her debut. I wasn't in the room at the time, but found out later that he proclaimed that guinea pig babies would be in our future; to help matters along, he instructed the kids to place the female in the same cage as the male.

The scene was familiar, but not our place in it.  Last night, our military family had the honor of lighting the Hanukkah menorah at the White House, reciting the blessings over the candles, and meeting President Obama, Mrs. Obama, and Vice President Biden.

The phone call from Baghdad came at the appointed time, and Ethan was ready.

“Daddy, I’ve been thinking more about your next job,” Ethan said, as if tidying up loose conversational threads. In fact, I’d never heard our 6-year-old mention any concerns about his father’s possible future career; in the four months since my husband left, he had never mentioned it to me.

My doorbell rang recently, and since I was upstairs I peeked out of my bedroom window to see who was standing on the porch. Two men in khaki uniforms waited patiently, talking quietly to each other.

My heart clenched. I felt lightheaded and grabbed the window ledge. I had long feared this scene, as have many other military wives. Not that we talk about it; at least, no other spouses I’ve met in eight years of being married to the military have ever mentioned it.