by Kate Gukeisen, written around 2016 Ten years agothe fighting got bad. Ten years agoWe madecasserolesthat we expected would go uneaten. We madecallsthat left us weeping on the flooruntil we put on brave faces to pick up children from school. Ten years agowe askedourselves when it would get […]
“Thank You For Your Service” was not optimistic or pessimistic, angry or trite. It was simply, overwhelmingly honest. Like, two boxes of tissues honest.
He cannot give me any sort of expected delivery window, which is all I really want…just a window so that I don’t feel powerless, with my schedule held hostage by the unknown. He hopes I have a great weekend. I hope he does not enjoy his weekend at all…
We honor the memory of fallen heroes on this day, including many who were much more than heroes to us–they were our friends.
A decade ago, our military was facing a dizzying op-tempo, coupled with the kind of violent warfare that my family, and many other young Army families in the regular combat arms community, had not been exposed to quite so intimately before. I have felt comfort in reading stories from other military spouses processing […]
This book…will serve as a valuable learning tool to emphasize to young writers the importance of maintaining a clear main idea in their writing and of utilizing an organized system of citation to give credence to their work.
Being involved in Army Life looks different for every family.
I tackled Nassim Nicholas Taleb’s Antifragile slowly–both to reflect on Taleb’s ideas, and because reading this book is like hanging out with a brilliant and obnoxious friend who is best taken in small doses. Nearly a year later, reading the book’s Conclusion, I found Taleb had articulated exactly […]
The first time my Vagabond Soldier deployed to Afghanistan, resources about the country were hard to find, out of date, and seemed to reveal little about the true spirit and culture of the Afghan people. Even though my son was a baby at the time, I wanted to […]
In Flanders Fields by John McCrae (1872-1918) In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days […]
