OK, I'm getting the hang of this now. So let me tell you what it's like to be the wife of a soldier. I have been married just short of three years to the most wonderful man on earth. He's one of those guys that still opens the car door for his girl, even though he's got the ring on her finger and he doesn't need to impress her anymore. This wonderful man knew me 6 months before he found out he was getting deployed to Kosovo, got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. After enduring one deployment, he spent 11 months home with me before he was called up again, this time for Iraq. We are closing in on a year since he left our home for the second time, and I miss him terribly. Having said that, let me tell you how utterly proud I am of him. My husband has gone days without sleep, months without good food or a good shower (or toilet), and years without a stable home. He spends everyday folding his tall 6' frame into the turret of a Bradley. He doesn't get a weekend, he doesn't get a vacation. Call off sick? I don't think so. Privacy? Yeah, right. Back pain? Headaches? Heartburn? Absolutely. My husband's idea of dinner is a can of Beefaroni, a package of beef jerky or some ramen noodles. He works hard, to the point of exhaustion many days. Despite all of this, he still treks to the three hour phone line to call his wife. He still gets on his laptop every night with weary eyes to chat with me so I know he's alright. And this isn't even why I'm proud of him. I'm proud because I have watched this man mature from the carefree bartender that I first met into the responsible sergeant that he is today. He has seen and done things that I -and most people in our country- could never imagine. I see the effect he and his fellow soldiers have even on this little town. The pride and emotion people feel for these guys is amazing. I am here at home, while the other half of me is thousands of miles away in a place that I will never see. While I am standing in the kitchen washing dishes or sitting at my computer typing this blog, my husband is doing things that I will never imagine. So what can I do? Write to him, be there for him, love him, pray for him. I send him at least one package a week. The folks at the post office know me personally by now! (by the way, let me tell you how much I loathe filling out those stinkin customs forms!) I gather every newspaper clipping and photo I find and stuff them into the giant scrapbook that documents my husband's deployment. The baby is already 6 inches thick and we're only halfway done! I want our children and their children to see what amazing things this man has done. People always tell me, "I don't know how you do it," or "I could never deal with my husband being deployed for this long!" but for me there is no other option. My husband is serving our country. He is doing his job. And I am doing mine.
Considering I am the namesake for this cute little sheep that seemed to irritate the tar out of all of the soldiers in Habbaniyah, I felt obligated to honor her. May she romp through the grassy fields of sheep heaven with a spring in her step and no spray paint in her fur. To read my husband's endearing eulogy, follow the link to J Barne's on the right.
