The Military Wife
She's totally feminine, yet at times we see her mowing the lawn, changing the oil, or fixing a leaky faucet. She comes in all shapes and sizes - tall, small, petite, and robust. On occasion, she's a little pregnant, but she's always at our side when we need her.
Her children may be born in many different places in this world. She measures time in terms of duty stations as other women use years... "it was in Cape May when young Tom was born", or "that was when Dad made Lieutenant, when we were in the Fourteenth".
She was alone- her husband at sea, deployed, at a military school, or TAD- when her child was born, or when the movers came, and she wondered why he had to be so far away when she needed him so much.
She draws her inner strength from many sources. Some are country girls, some are from cities, some even from foreign lands. She may be a nurse, a teacher, or a secretary, but the bond she shares with everyone here today is that she is a military wife.
At times she must be an actress. When transfer time rolls around, she must put on an academy award winning performance. She must tell her children, "California is going to be fantastic, there's a Disneyland and Marineland, Redwood forests, and new friends; we are going to have such great fun!" At the same time quietly standing behind her husband as he wonders whether he can handle this new assignment. All the time she knows that no one really wants to leave and everyone is just a little apprehensive about this whole thing. In her heart she silently wonders if it is worth the sacrifice, but she goes... because she is a military wife.
It is said of such a woman that she must have the patience of an angel, the stubbornness of a mule, the stamina of a horse, and the wisdom of Solomon. She carries her memories in an old footlocker. In a shoebox are old photographs she still intends to mount someday. She knows she is number two to her rival: The ever demanding, always satisfied mistress called "Duty". When she is alone on those nights she must silently wonder again, is it worth the sacrifice?
She has accepted the permanency of a Gypsy, the state of the gentile impoverished, the frustrations of conformity, and the emptiness of loneliness. As she sits amid the packing boxes, with little ones crying around her, worrying about what her next home will be like and how good the schools will be, she must again wonder if it is worth the sacrifice... and then she remembers just how much we depend on her, how much we rely upon her so we may indulge ourselves in our careers, and she knows she made the right choice.
She's totally feminine, yet at times we see her mowing the lawn, changing the oil, or fixing a leaky faucet. She comes in all shapes and sizes - tall, small, petite, and robust. On occasion, she's a little pregnant, but she's always at our side when we need her.
Her children may be born in many different places in this world. She measures time in terms of duty stations as other women use years... "it was in Cape May when young Tom was born", or "that was when Dad made Lieutenant, when we were in the Fourteenth".
She was alone- her husband at sea, deployed, at a military school, or TAD- when her child was born, or when the movers came, and she wondered why he had to be so far away when she needed him so much.
She draws her inner strength from many sources. Some are country girls, some are from cities, some even from foreign lands. She may be a nurse, a teacher, or a secretary, but the bond she shares with everyone here today is that she is a military wife.
At times she must be an actress. When transfer time rolls around, she must put on an academy award winning performance. She must tell her children, "California is going to be fantastic, there's a Disneyland and Marineland, Redwood forests, and new friends; we are going to have such great fun!" At the same time quietly standing behind her husband as he wonders whether he can handle this new assignment. All the time she knows that no one really wants to leave and everyone is just a little apprehensive about this whole thing. In her heart she silently wonders if it is worth the sacrifice, but she goes... because she is a military wife.
It is said of such a woman that she must have the patience of an angel, the stubbornness of a mule, the stamina of a horse, and the wisdom of Solomon. She carries her memories in an old footlocker. In a shoebox are old photographs she still intends to mount someday. She knows she is number two to her rival: The ever demanding, always satisfied mistress called "Duty". When she is alone on those nights she must silently wonder again, is it worth the sacrifice?
She has accepted the permanency of a Gypsy, the state of the gentile impoverished, the frustrations of conformity, and the emptiness of loneliness. As she sits amid the packing boxes, with little ones crying around her, worrying about what her next home will be like and how good the schools will be, she must again wonder if it is worth the sacrifice... and then she remembers just how much we depend on her, how much we rely upon her so we may indulge ourselves in our careers, and she knows she made the right choice.
