I'm an Army brat. But not really. There are two sides to my life that are hard to reconcile because it puts me in two very different classifications with two very different groups of people.

My dad was active duty Army for over 20 years. To set the record straight, the Army is a branch of the U.S. military. "Army" is not an all-encompassing term. "Military" is and there are five branches: Air Force, Army, Coast Guard, Marine Corps (pronounced "core") and Navy. I've had so many people confuse it, so please make sure to remember the difference.

Dad retired when I was 18, a few months into my senior year of high school, and I'm not sure I've ever seen my mom so happy. Most of my life has been spent around uniforms and buildings that literally look exactly the same. On the flip side of that, all I've really known is civilian life: I've never lived on base, never been immersed in the military culture, never had to move every two years.

I count myself lucky for not moving as often as a typical family (we've only moved to three states since I was born, and twice in the same state), but that makes it hard to relate to civilians. Many of my friends in high school didn't really get how hard it was that my dad was deployed for months at a time, sometimes a full year, missing about half of my high school career plus everything before that. They didn't understand, and how could they? None of them had to deal with it or knew anyone else who did.

He did it to provide for his family and I know it was hard on my parents. I'm pretty sure my hearing is as good as it is because I spent so much time at dinner listening for the ringing of Skype on my mom's computer. As soon as I heard the ringtone, I was the first to run down the stairs. That's how my mom and sister would know Dad was even calling. Skype has only been around since 2003 and few people really get how much easier it made deployments. Before that, it was all care packages and letters, some of which I still have.

Our servicemen and women give up a lot to do what they do, whether they like it or not. I knew I was living a different life than a lot of the people around me when I had to explain what "geo-bachelor" meant on more than one occasion. People thought it meant my parents had split up or something had happened when it was nothing more than Dad getting a job somewhere else for two years.

It was close enough that my parents decided he would go live in an apartment there and the rest of us would stay where we were. Mom had a decent job and my sister and I had friends in good schools. They weren't willing to uproot that for only two years. So on Friday night or insanely early Saturday morning, he would make the four-hour drive to come see us and then leave again on Sunday. Some weekends, he had too much to do and couldn't make the drive.

I lived in a one-parent household with two parents who were still married and still loved each other immensely. That kind of situation isn't easy to understand if you aren't living it.

I saw a post on Facebook about a woman seeing her husband's boots after tripping over them when she got home from grocery shopping. Those tan boots with a thousand laces mean one thing to military families: Their person is home. Those boots always made me excited when I would come home and see them. Doesn't matter how old I got, I'd still yell "Daddy!" and run into his arms. Those boots are so much more than rubber and laces to a military brat.

Our final move brought us to a place

where most families are military or has a connection to someone who is. That's what really showed me how out of the loop I am. I don't know the alphabet of military acronyms, I sure as heck don't know my way around base, and I have no idea which rank matches with which symbol. It's all another language in hieroglyphs to me. Despite all this, I still managed to find solace in the girl who became my best friend, who had lived a typical military life but seemed to be my other half anyway.

More often than not during our first year of friendship, I felt like I had missed something important that was part of the life people assumed I had. She always seemed to have this worldly view, after living in multiple states and Germany. Twice. I used to envy her for it because those were experiences I couldn't understand. She and her siblings had all these crazy stories about going out with friends and mishaps at sports meets, and it all seemed so incredible to me. I was a little starstruck for the longest time.

My family was always fairly stable wherever we went because Dad always managed to find different jobs at the same base so we could stay longer. I couldn't relate to the struggle of leaving people behind because the first move I remember was before the fifth grade. It was tough in high school, but I haven't talked to a lot of those people since I left. She had always known what it's like to leave everything behind and start over. I only really did it once.

Army life has left me able to relate to both military and civilian lifestyles and incapable of fully understanding either. However, the divide in my life has taught me to be strong and that family is one of the most important forces in your life, whether you get along with them or not. The military has taught me that packing is an unrecognized art form and that you should respect people and their actions even if you don't like either. This life has taught me how to adapt and survive in different environments.

I have a deep admiration for those who are active or inactive in our military. More than once, I put people in their place because they wanted to complain about people like my dad and what they do. They want to complain about this country with no thought of what kind of sacrifices are made to keep it safe. Not all service members go into combat zones, that's just what you see in the media. Regardless, I have never been, and will never be, the person who stands aside and lets that kind of ignorant criticism pass. It's deeper than a pet peeve for me because those comments take a stab at me, my family and people I consider family.

Camo is not just something you wear to go hunting. It's not just a costume to sexualize at Halloween. It's a life that few understand and appreciate.

The uniform does not make the person. It just fits them (and even then it doesn't always look like it fits).

Dad told me that who he is isn't wrapped up in what his job used to be. He retired as a lieutenant colonel and I could never understand why people (who know rankings) are so shocked when I say that. Lieutenant Colonel Oliver was just a job title to me. It meant the same as Manager, Secretary, CEO. He's always been just Dad to me.

So on this day, I ask you to remember the fallen. Thank their families. They make as many sacrifices as their departed loved ones. Those who wear the different uniforms are still regular people doing a job they believe in. It's not an easy life, but it is an honorable one.

"It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the organizer, who gave us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protester to burn the flag."
-- Father Dennis Edward O’Brien, United States Marine Corps