Today, I had a fabulous (and long overdue) conversation with my other mother. (I loathe the term "step-mother" and all the negative connotations it conjures.)
We spoke of the upcoming trip home our family was making this summer, and she asked if we would still make the (very) long drive if Big E was deployed. I was taken aback by the question, now being fully acclimated to military life. I'd forgotten that in the civilian world our plans were dependent on work schedules. Those were the days.
Now, we make plans and just hope that Big E can be there. The military is full of so many surprise work hours, trainings, and deployments that if you stubbornly attempt to plan around them, your life will remain on hold indefinitely.
People ask me what it's like, being married to a soldier--especially when we made the transition to the military after being married for 13 years. Civilians have these perceptions of how our day-to-day lives are like, a conglomerate of movies, films, books, newscasts all tangled in their imaginations. And the truth is, in many ways our lives often are very similar to anyone else's.
But sometimes, it is different. Very, very different.
I remember a phone call with a family member who was struggling because her husband had been gone for nearly two weeks to help his brother with a remodel. She had reached her limit of being a single mother to their then two young children. At the time of this conversation, Big E had been gone for over two months and the only communication we had with him was a seven minute phone call on Sundays. And sometimes, we didn't even get that. On top of taking care of our six children by myself, I was also doing part-time childcare in my home.
Sometimes, it is different.
I'm not super human. I don't have some hidden reservoir of strength that non-military wives lack. I miss my husband when he is gone. I have rough days and wish I had another parent to take over when it gets to be too much. I get cranky at times when the military interferes with our plans.
What sets us military spouses apart is not a special courage, but that we already made our choice and after signing on the dotted line, there is no turning back. Big E enlisted with my support, and I knew there were sacrifices ahead for us. The choice was made. We gave our lives over in service to our nation. And now, I either make it work or wallow in self-pity. I choose the former.
It's the same answer I give when asked how in the world I handle having such a large family.
It seemed apropos that when I was perusing some of my old poems tonight, I came across this piece I had written a couple years ago (and had completely forgotten!) about what it meant to be a military wife. The words still ring true:
The Proud Wife
She understands that she has only part of his heart.
She watches while other women complain
that their husbands work too much.
that their priorities are askew,
And their marriages suffer.
But she knows that his loyalty to his job
doesn't replace his loyalty to her.
When duty calls him away from her
She never thinks to ask him to choose.
She knows that as deeply as he loves her,
He loves his duty as well.
She cries sometimes when he is gone,
but she understands.
She understands that he gives her as much as he can.
She watches while other women complain
that their husbands don't do enough,
that they don't bring flowers,
but instead merely watch television every night.
But she knows what a precious gift it is
to have him home each evening.
She understands how he can woo her
from halfway across the world,
Sometimes with little more than
a piece of paper and a pen.
She knows that while he is her life,
she can still find happiness alone.
She talks to his empty side of the bed sometimes,
but she understands.
Maybe she didn't enlist, it's true.
Maybe she didn't choose to fall in love
with a man whose heart is sworn to millions.
Maybe it would have been easier
for her to settle with an ordinary guy.
But if anyone asks,
If anyone cares to know...
She'd rather have this life with him,
She'd rather have the sacrifice,
because she understands.
~Randi Anderson