<h1>Isn't it rich; isn't it queer?</h1>

I am an "army brat" and proud of it.

A "Shilobrat" to be specific. A shilobrat is any person who has lived in CFB Shilo at any time since the base's creation in the 1940's.

My father was a soldier and, like all Canadian soldiers, he would be "posted" frequently, and as he went, so went his family. We were nomads. When asked, "What is your hometown?" I always answer "Shilo" although I only lived there for about 6 years in total. Yes, in three separate postings to Shilo, 4 years was the longest we ever stayed put. All army brats suffered the same disruptions in their lives. Each spring, summer or fall, there would be another moving van on the street, taking away another family.

Sad, don't you think?

Nah, it wasn't so bad. Afterall, you got to see interesting places in Canada, the USA, the UK and other exotic destinations. In our family, travel and crumbling keeps and radiant palaces brought excitement to my parents; for me, not so much.

For example, did you know that the field, famously known as Runnymede, where the Magna Carta was signed is/was just that .... a field. The site of an important step in the development of democracy is (or was in my day) just an ordinary field. After you have seen one field,.... you have seen them all! I had learned of Runnymede in school, but being there was, well, kind of boring.

Let me give you another example; I lived close to Stonehenge, where I and my friends would travel by bike when there was nothing else to do. To us it was just a pile of rocks forming an unusual pattern that added to the ambiances of our imaginations, nothing more.

Yes, when the mystery of famous places becomes commonplace, you are glad you have friends that make life interesting and can lift you out of the doldrums. That is what is special about being an army brat; not the shrines, castles, bomb shelters (it was 10 years after the war), and other places of historical significance. What was special was the friendship of other brats who spent their teens in Shilo and, upon graduating from grade 12, became scattered around the nation. I would not see 99% of them for many years. Then some genius invented the internet.

Our home in the ethernet started with one person, but the group of brats grew quickly. The result was Shilobrats.com and our inner teenagers returned with a gusto.

Next week, we have planned a reunion of Shilobrats from across Canada. They come to Winnipeg, to relive the past, from Grand Manan Island in eastern Canada to Vancouver Island in the west, each a distance of 1400 miles by air, to reunite in the center of Canada. The brats live in every province in the country. Some, like me, have PD or other life-altering conditions. Talk about support groups! I feel confident that if I ever had the need for support, I have a score of brats to whom I can turn during times of hardship.

Our friendships are the result of having had a soldier for a father. All that moving, changing schools, making new friends, etc, was my life for 18 years and I would not change a moment. This reunion will ignite forgotten times, bringing them back to life by "remember when...." conversations. Once more we will all be 16, full of health and innocence and for me, for once in the past 8 years, Parkinson's will take a back seat, if only for a few hours. I am looking forward to that time machine. It will probably be the last time I see most of them, but that's life.

Now if only I can keep standing (balance is a little off these days) and people are able to hear my disappearing voice, it should be quite a party!

"Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection." Schopenhauer