i am in a relatively good period in my personal life right now, bills are paid, home is good, i love my job and work schedule. but as a military wife i am constantly on guard emotionally. this duty station has had it’s ups and down with jason being home and gone but thus far no overseas deployments (knock on wood). 2010 was a rough year we lived apart more than we lived together and that along with pcs’ing to washington dc made for a stressful year. 2011 has been much better, we have only been apart a couple of months and as most military spouses know that is a serious bonus year. i have become a bit spoiled and not quite as on guard so i was caught by surprise when jason brought me some training dates for 2012. sometimes the jolt back to reality causes more inner reflection than i really wanted to face…so this thought from a wise elderly lady made me stop and think and remember to hold on dearly to what i have when i have it and be thankful for that itself.
“grief and i are old friends. when is a good time for your husband to die? is it when he’s young and the two of you have your whole life ahead of you? how about after you have children and you need him there when they’re sick and to help you raise them god’s way? or maybe it’s better after the children are gone and you’re ready for some peaceful years spent watching your grandchildren grow with him by your side? or did you think the best time was when you were old and you’ve both lived a full life and your faces are no longer beautiful but seamed with the lines of time? did you think that was the best time, when it’s been you and him as one for over 45 years? believe me, there is no good time for your mate to die.”
jason is not heading in to a war zone by any stretch of the imagination, but sometimes i need the reminder that everyday is precious with my most beloved ones. the little things can slide sometimes as i re-prioritize. if i don’t post again before christmas, then i want to say to my family and friends that i love you, i miss you, and merry christmas.
