To All the Friends I’ve Had Before

We’re about to enter the prime PCS season, which means that some of you may be prepping for a big move, or you may be prepping to say your heartfelt, bitter “see you laters” to friends who feel more like family (because, fortunately, there’s no such thing as “goodbye” in this life).

This is a hard time for a lot of us, especially if we’re the ones staying put while the friends around us move on. This time of year always makes me reflect on the gift of military spouse friendships, as a number of my friends are leaving this summer.

I became a part of the military community when I joined my husband at his first duty station in 2010. I was a recent college grad (three days prior to my move) and was leaving all my civilian friends behind. While I floated through various groups of friends in middle school, high school, and college, I had one consistent friend who was with me through all of my school-age years.

Jenny and I had known each other since first grade, and she was helping me move to Louisiana to join my husband. She was with me for so many years in my hometown, supported me during the year-long training my husband left for shortly after we were married, and now she would help me enter the newest chapter of my life.

After arriving in Louisiana, I attended a few FRG meetings and met a few spouses—acquaintances at the time—but I didn’t begin forming any real friendships until my husband deployed. The day after he left, my newest milspouse friend texted me, inviting me for lunch with her kids. Sherry had two boys, ages 3 and 1 at the time, and she would become a dear friend in the weeks and months ahead.

Something about a deployment forges the bonds of friendship among milspouses, and I wasn’t missing out.

My twosome with Sherry grew into a foursome of ladies: Me, Sherry, Victoria, and Erin. These ladies taught me everything about friendship in this community.

We met once a week, every week, for dinner. We were involved in the FRG together as our husbands were all in the same battalion. We would get together for cocktails and meals and chat about our jobs, children (for those who had them), our pets, extended family, and of course, our husbands. My small group was my lifesaver, but they also weren’t the only ones.

My group branched out and included many women in the same situation.

Our husbands were of various ranks with different responsibilities. Some of us worked outside the home, others didn’t. Some had children, and a small group of us were childless. Our common link was the military community, but we came from all walks of life.

While our husbands were gone, we celebrated children’s birthdays and holidays, took summer vacations together, made weekend shopping trips, had small parties together. And if a babysitter had to cancel or couldn’t be found, we would take the party to that person.

These ladies, all amassed at my husband’s first duty station, the first three years of my time with the military community, changed me for good.

They took a socially shy girl from southern Pennsylvania, who had no direction in life other than where she currently was, and helped mature her, nurture her, make her more confident on her own, and applaud her when she got her first grown-up job.

And when the deployment felt hard, when the bittersweet R&R ended, when things just weren’t looking so rosy anymore, the tough parts of military life, they were there for the support I needed.

I found support in my co-workers at the Fort Polk Guardian, the installation newspaper where I began my writing career. Almost everyone in the office was military-affiliated—veterans, spouses, military brats—and most of them had been members of the small-town Louisiana community for many years.

They were my link between the military world and the local community and got me excited to tour the surrounding areas, filling me in on all the hidden gems and tasty restaurants. They were supportive when I returned from my husband’s R&R feeling sad, they applauded my husband’s safe return from deployment, they provided numerous hugs when I needed them after tough interviews, and they celebrated my pregnancy with my first child.

I moved to a new duty station in Arizona after three years, but some friends from Louisiana moved to the same place. I started fresh in Maryland after that, but soon added some more friends.

When I moved overseas to our first OCONUS duty station, I truly learned the value of friendship and how important it is to make friends wherever you are. It was the first time I moved somewhere and didn’t know a single person.

But loneliness was only temporary.

I’ve written about how wonderful my current military community is and my friends help it to be that way. There’s no more loneliness.

Now, we spend holidays together with more food than we could all eat. We set up cocktail hours on the weekend, full of sweet, fizzy drinks and yummy snacks. Our kids run around outside together, speeding down the driveway on scooters and bikes. We have impromptu barbecues complete with kids and dogs. We explore new cities, new countries together.

We’ve celebrated so many birthdays and milestones. We have meals together when all of our husbands are away, with no shortage of conversation. And there’s a constant support flowing between us all.

Over the past eight years that I’ve been a part of the military community, I’ve seen an overlap in the friends I’ve had before. It’s based more on who people are rather than social groups. And I’ve found our friends never truly leave us for good.

I still have my Sherrys, Jessicas, and Carolynes, who are the outgoing spouses. They’re friends with everyone, energetic, involved in everything from FRG, to their kids’ sports and activities, to helping out in the community where needed. They’re always opening their home—kids, dogs, and adults.

I have my Beths, Kirstens, and Tonis, the mamas of the group. They’re the ones with extra experience under their belts that rope in all the spouses and ensure everyone has the support they need. They help manage baby gifts and meals for new parents. They lead the way in FRG efforts to take care of families and single service members. They’re often the ones who know everyone and will surely greet you with a smile. They’re kind and sweet and generous.

I have my Erins and Karleenes, who are often seen as the quiet ones but will be there no matter what you need, any time you need it. Those of us who know them well will know they aren’t always quiet and truly open up when they’re comfortable. They’re easy to talk to, amazing with children, and you’re guaranteed tons of laughs with them.

I have my Victorias, Caitlins, and Christinas, the ones who are career-driven and working to find that perfect balance between career, family, and military life. They have no shortage of goals and will find a way to reach them and give advice to help you reach yours.

I have my Amandas, Jasmines, and Angelas, the ones with giant hearts and so much love to offer the community. They have beautiful families of their own but have made such an impact on my own children. They have the patience of saints. They probably agreed to be my child’s “in case of emergency” person while hardly knowing me. They’re also happy to act as travel buddies or to provide helpful travel tips.

And these are only a handful of the sweet friends I’ve made.

To all the friends I’ve had before: No matter where we’ve moved, the changes in our service members’ careers or our own, the growth in our families, and the time we’ve spent apart, I think of you often. You’ve made such a tremendous impact on my life, and you’ve helped to change me.

I’m grateful for your friendship and truly look forward to our paths crossing in the future.