by Kevin L'dux

Created on: May 19, 2008

I put the brakes on "coping" with life years ago and go with the flow. I have a medical condition that most couldn't cope with. I tried to come to terms with it years ago but still haven't fully 13 years into it.

I am 50 and feel I have lived a varied life. My father was in the military, the first twist of many fates. When people ask if I was in the service I will quickly answer "yes". Any spouse or offspring of a military soldier is, for the most part, support for that soldier and part of the military; ask a military wife of a soldier with 4 kids that traveled the world. I had a military identification - ID - card that allowed me to pass through the gates and take advantage of amenities of any military base I ever encountered for 19 years. My medical care was paid for by the same branch of the military my father was enlisted to. The same can be said for my dear mother and 4 siblings. We moved about as gypsies from one camp to another. I bailed out at the age of 19 when they were to migrate again.

I went to 9 different schools before graduating from high school. Over those dozen or so years I learned to make friends readily to cope but that final high school experience was hollow in a sense as I only knew my classmates for 3 years. I didn't have real roots to tie to any of my classmates so I spread my circle of friendship past a limited few to know more of them. The majority of them had known each other since early childhood. I remain to be friends with many at present and I often seek out the contact.

My childhood started in Oceanside, CA. and then to Oklahoma City, OK before I was a year old. Three of my siblings were born there then we were off to Tripoli, Libya for three years. At age 9 we were off to San Antonio, TX for an extended 7 year stay. We left for the Washington, DC area on my 16th birthday. I live here to this day as does one of my sisters.

Talk about cope. Imagine being uprooted from the only stability you had come to know at the height of puberty. South Texas is decidedly redneck and that cramped my style as a kid. The DC area is a mecca of laid back liberalism in comparison. I had a good dose of culture shock when the school dress code didn't require that I maintain a military haircut. In Texas we had to report to the principal to be suspended for three days if hair went over ears or collar. 25 miles south of DC was the land of the home and the freethinking and was by far a superior environment for a teenager's mind to develop. My brother

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