happy birthday beautiful america...

The American flag does not fly because the wind moves past it. The American flag flies from the last breath of each military member who has died protecting it. American soldiers don't fight because they hate what's in front of them...they fight because they love what's behind them. 

-quote found through a friend who prays for her soldier every day.

unsung heroes

She dresses carefully, indulges in one last spritz of perfume, and looks into the mirror with a critic's eye. 
Will he still think I am pretty? 
Will he still love me?
The answers come in the crush... his arms wrapped around her, after being away so long... tear-stained faces held in the others hands while eyes meet... home at last.  He pulls her close again, and spins her around... she, the unsung hero.

She, who put on a smile and waved goodbye, so many months ago... then wrapped her own arms around their children, making promises she doesn't have the power to keep.   She gives them everything she has... encouragement, energy, love... to fill the void until he comes home, and so often has nothing left for herself.

She is the one that holds a well of tears just behind her smile, that refuses your offer of taking the kids for a few hours... because to be alone is to have time to let the fears to slip in.  To have them away at school is far too long as it is... their touch, the only thing that is truly comforting.

She, who chooses the comfort of the couch over the lonliness of the bed that stretches into emptiness... that is far too quiet.  Unless she is lying across it weeping tears that make her wonder Can I ever stop?
 
She writes love letters and waits by the mailbox for one in return.  Her breath catches every time the phone rings... hoping that it might be him.  And when it is, she lets the untruths slip from her mouth... We are okay.  Everything is fine. 
 
She sits in the unknowing... waiting with hopes wrapped up in prayers, so proud of what he gives.  And she keeps wiping away tears, keeps trying to muster up a smile and an I'm doing just fine, keeps praying for her soldier... because it is her part.  She does what she does in service to her country... so he can serve his.  To make his job easier, to lift burdens from his heart.   It is the least she can do... and the most.

They are two, serving their country with honor and pride.
The soldier arrives home in glory... she is the unsung hero. 
And she would have it no other way...

land of the free

A thank you note in yesterday's mail brings it all back...

Stacking crisp uniforms into his duty bag, and slipping special photos in between the layers to keep them safe on the road. And while he donned camouflage, we chose reds, whites and blues. We cut strips of paper and recorded the days happenings before adding it to the chain... and we waited for the day he'd be headed home to see it. Next week, two months... six months. Everyday was a new message and we learned not to get our hopes up. But as much as he missed being home, he was glad to be there... doing something, honored to serve. We missed him terribly, figuring out how to manage without him, but our crew of three held up the homefront, so proud of our soldier.

The years have gone by... five since he's been home for good... and thankfulness abounds. But our hearts still ache for those serving now. For friends whose hearts are separated by the great wide ocean.
We know... that freedom isn't free. That brave Americans make sacrifices for the freedom we enjoy.  And we have to believe that this land of the free is more beautiful because of those men and women who protect it.

This week... I remember the soldiers in my life, and send up a prayer for every soldier, and for our great country.
And I am thankful for this special friend who thanked my soldier, my hero.