But what happens when we “live on the edge”?
When my husband joined the National Guard, we became the minority. We went from a sea of soldiers to a small kiddie pool. We stood on the outside of a community looking in. We hadn’t been a part of a, well, non-military community for so many years. How would we ever fit in to a place where the ID office was 53 minutes away? And there was NO COMMISSARY!
As National Guard spouses, it can be harder to get the help (or to help) when our fellow spouses live hours away. That’s where our physical communities DO come into play. During my spouse’s latest deployment, I felt a kinship with my physical community. My immediate and extended community provided babysitting for my children (so they would, you know, stay alive), allowed for a deployed soldier utility abatement program, organized homecoming parades and ceremonies, and offered military discounts at the local food trucks (I’ll take it where I can get it). My community did what they could to help me, and I felt remembered and appreciated. My gratitude for their awareness is unending, and I feel better prepared to help others in similar situations.
Our National Guard experience has been neither terrible nor scary – just different. Our unit, although vastly spread out, is a tight-knit group of friends, both soldiers and spouses. We turn to each other as friends should, in scary moments and in joy, in sickness and in loneliness. We are there for each other, not as a mandated FRG, but as soul sisters with a special bond. We endured a deployment together. We constantly endure our spouses’ bad jokes together. We spend way too much time eating and shopping at Target together. This IS my family.
So if I’m living on the edge of this community, I’ll take it.
There’s no place I’d rather be.
