I am a corporate brat.
We, corporate brats, identify with army brats.
We both grew up in households where our childhoods revolved around our parents’ careers.
Although different, we’re similar.
We, corporate brats, watched our parents fight it out in corporate America rather than on a battlefield.
We waited for our parents to return home from business trips not from deployment.
We got transferred not stationed,
but we both, inevitably, moved across the country or ocean and, usually, multiple times, during our childhoods.
The moving left its mark. We, brats, know what it’s like to be the newcomer, the one on the bench, and the person with no friends, and it’s made us tough. It’s allowed us to relate to others who’ve been there. It’s also taught us to appreciate good friends.
Today, Lolo, the army brat, moved away from me, the corporate brat. As Lolo convoyed with her UHaul and family to CA, I, from my office, reminisced about our trust and respect-filled 23+ year friendship.
Remarkably, we’ve avoided a move during most of our adult lives, and we’ve been able to build a solid, real friendship, stationed in the same city. It’s been such a bonus to have a friend who shares in the joy of attending weekly Friday night Happy Hours, of playing 2-at-a-time Words with Friends games, of bringing to life the motto, “every meal matters,” of debriefing after every life event, and of supporting each other’s work, art and families.
It’s been an incredible journey – to travel all over the world and end up discovering true friendship while rooted in one place, safeguarded from our past corporate and army upbringings.
It’s safe to say, the brat in me sees the angel in Lolo and recognizes that our nomadic childhoods led us to exactly where we were supposed to be – once a Fulltimer, always a Fulltimer.
We’ve had great fortune, Lolo and me –
and I believe our friendship, although
it’ll be different but similar, just like our “brat beginnings,”
will be OK.
Into the sunset, we’ll ride our Rascals (befitting for two brats) with or without a tooth lost from a Gatorade cap, and definitely, with glasses of Lava Vine in one hand and lemon drops in the other, celebrating all that is real and good.