Showing posts with label Army. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Army. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

A Military Wife

A Military Wife

A military wife is mostly girl. But there are times, such as when her husband is away and she is mowing the lawn or fixing a youngster's bike, that she begins to suspect she is also boy.

She usually comes in three sizes: petit
e, plump and pregnant. During the early years of her marriage it is often hard to determine which size is her normal one. She has babies all over the world and measures time in terms of places as other women do in years. "It was in England that the children had the chicken pox...It was in Texas, Paul was promoted..." At least one of her babies was born or a transfer was accomplished while she was alone. This causes her to suspect a secret pact between her husband and the military providing for a man to be overseas or on temporary duty at times such as these.

A military wife is international. She may be a Kansas farm girl, a French mademoiselle, a Japanese doll, or a German fraulein. When discussing service problems, they all speak the same language.

She can be a great actress. To heartbroken children at transfer time, she gives an Academy Award performance: "New Mexico is going to be such fun! I hear they have Indian reservations...and tarantulas...and rattlesnakes." But her heart is breaking with theirs. She wonders if this is worth the sacrifice.

An ideal military wife has the patience of an angel, the flexibility of putty, the wisdom of a scholar and the stamina of a horse. If she dislikes money, it helps. She is sentimental, carrying her memories with her in an old footlocker. One might say she is a bigamist, sharing her husband with a demanding entity called "duty." When duty calls, she becomes No. 2 wife. Until she accepts this fact, her life can be miserable.

She is above all a woman who married a man who offered her the permanency of a gypsy, the miseries of loneliness, the frustration of conformity and the security of love.

Sitting among her packing boxes with squabbling children nearby, she is sometimes willing to chuck it all in until she hears the firm step and cheerful voice of the lug who gave her all this.

Then she is happy to be...his military wife

(unknown)

When God created the Military Wife.

I'm not religious but I really like this...
When God Created the Military Wife

When the Lord was creating a military wife He ran into His sixth day of overtime. An angel appeared and said, "You're having a lot of trouble with this one. What's wrong with the standard model?"

The Lord replied, "Have you seen the specs on this order? It has to be completely independent but must always be sponsored to get on a military installation. It must have the qualities of both mother and father during deployments, be a perfect host to 4 or 40, handle emergencies without an instruction manual, cope with flu and moves all around the world, have a kiss that cures anything from a child's bruised knee to a husband's weary days, have the patience of a saint when waiting for its mate to come home and, have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands? No way." The Lord answered, "Don't worry; we will make other military wives to help. Besides, it's not the hands that are causing the problem, it's the heart. It must swell with pride, sustain the ache of numerous separations while remaining true, beat soundly even when it feels too tired to do so, be large enough to say 'I understand' when it doesn't, and say 'I love you', regardless.

"Lord," said the angel, gently touching His sleeve. "Go to bed. You can finish it tomorrow." "I can't," said the Lord. "I'm so close to creating something quite unique. Already it can heal itself when sick, on a moment's notice it will willingly embrace and feed total strangers who have been stranded during a PCS move and it can wave goodbye to its husband understanding why he had to leave."

The angel circled the model of the military wife very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.

"But tough," the Lord said excitedly. "You cannot imagine what this being can do or endure."

"Can it think?" asked the angel. "Can it think?! It can convert 1400 to 2 p.m.," replied the Lord.

Finally the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. "There's a leak," she said. "I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model." It's not a leak," said the Lord. "It's a tear." "What's it for?" asked the angel. "It's for joy, sadness, pain, loneliness and pride." "You're a genius," said the angel.
Looking at her somberly, the Lord replied, "I didn't put it there."
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