Within a few short months of giving birth to our first child, my husband got word that the Army, in all of its wisdom, decided that moving us to the other side of the world was a good idea. This meant leaving behind everything familiar – family, friends, schools, church, our favorite Kansas City barbeque restaurant – and adapting to a new country, a new culture, and a new language.
My husband was thrilled as he’d always wanted to visit to Germany. Me? The word ‘livid’ comes to mind. I’d never traveled much, didn’t have much of an interest to leave my perfectly good home and strand myself somewhere new, but at this point I didn’t have a choice. We packed up every single worldly possession we owned, said our goodbyes to family and friends, and had our last sweet taste of that barbeque before heading out – my husband, me, and our then 9-month-old son. What I didn’t know at the time was that this would be the first of many trips we’d be taking.
It took a little while to adjust to our new life but Europe offered too many fascinating sites for my reluctant demeanor to resist. We traveled mostly on the weekends to sites in the area due to my husband’s work schedule but every now and then, my husband was able to take leave and off we’d go to someplace new. I had transformed from unwilling traveler to globetrotter and I wanted to ensure that our son really appreciated our various overseas trips, something his peers back in the states would probably never have the opportunity to experience.
We ended up staying in Germany for a total of seven years – four years more than originally planned – and I’ve come to realize that my son came away from those family trips with a much different takeaway than I did. Granted, that was to be expected during the first years. We visited the Louve in Paris when he was two-and-a-half and while I was commenting on the talent it took to carve the marble warrior figures depicting a gruesome battle scene, my son was overly concerned with their ‘ow-ies’. As he grew older, though, his appreciation for these priceless sites continued to be on a level very different from my own. One unseasonably warm February morning, we found ourselves standing in front of Michelangelo’
We’ve since moved back to the states and I enjoy reflecting on those precious seven years worth of travels that the Army blessed us with – 45 countries worth of trips, 364 weekends worth of family fun, and countless unique commentaries of the sites from my son. As I recall the places I’ve seen – breathtaking world heritage sites, museums full of priceless works of art, ancient castles that still stand strong, soaring cathedrals that take your breath away, or ruined cities that echo with its lost souls - it’s not my mature, educated appreciation that comes to mind. It’s the purity of my child’s perspective – his angelic view that breathes a fresh look into even the oldest of travel destinations. I will always appreciate the artistic technique of Michelangelo’
