Thursday, January 31, 2013

"A Military Wife Lots of moving... Moving... Moving... Moving far from home. Moving two cars, three kids and one dog... all riding with HER of course. Moving sofas to basements because they won't go in THIS house; moving curtains that won't fit; moving jobs and certifications and professional development hours. Moving away from friends; moving toward new friends; moving her most important luggage: her trunk full of memories. Often waiting... Waiting... Waiting... Waiting for Housing. Waiting for orders. Waiting for deployments. Waiting for phone calls. Waiting for reunions. Waiting for the new curtains to arrive. Waiting for him to come home, for dinner...AGAIN! They call her 'Military Dependent', but she knows better: She is fiercely In-Dependent. She can balance a check book; handle the yard work; fix a noisy toilet; bury the family pet... She is intimately familiar with drywall anchors and toggle bolts. She can file the taxes; sell a house; buy a car; or set up a move... all with ONE Power of Attorney. She welcomes neighbors that don't welcome her. She reinvents her career with every PCS; locates a house in the desert, the Arctic, or the deep south. And learns to call them all 'home'. She MAKES them all home. Military Wives are somewhat hasty... They leap into: Decorating, leadership, volunteering, career alternatives, churches, and friendships. They don't have 15 years to get to know people. Their roots are short but flexible. They plant annuals for themselves and perennials for those who come after them. Military Wives quickly learn to value each other: They connect over coffee, rely on the Spouse Network, accept offers of friendship and favors. Record addresses in pencil... Military Wives have a common bond: The Military Wife has a husband unlike other husbands; his commitment is unique. He doesn't have a 'JOB', he has a 'MISSION' that he can't just decide to quit. He's on-call for his country 24/7. But for her, he's the most unreliable guy in town! His language is foreign: TDY, PCS, OPR, SOS, ACC, BDU, ACU, BAR, CIB, TAD... And so, a Military Wife is a translator for her family and his. She is the long-distance link to keep them informed; the glue that holds them together. A Military Wife has her moments: She wants to wring his neck; dye his uniform pink; refuse to move to Siberia; but she pulls herself together. Give her a few days, a travel brochure, a long hot bath, a pledge to the flag, a wedding picture, and she goes. She packs. She moves. She follows. Why? What for? How come? You may think it is because she has lost her mind. But actually it is because she has lost her heart. It was stolen from her by a man who puts duty first; who longs to deploy; who salutes the flag; and whose boots in the doorway remind her that as long as he is her Military Husband, she will remain his Military Wife. And would have it no other way. --Author Unknown"

Friday, January 25, 2013

Feeling a little reminiscent

I remember when I was a kid, candy bars were only 25 cents. 

I could play outside without my parents having to constantly check on me into the dusk. 

I remember the ice cream truck, riding my bike MILES away without a cell phone, staying home alone for a few hours until mom and dad came home. 

I didn't throw a fit my my mom told me to wash the dishes, by hand since we didn't have the luxury of a dish washer; I wouldn't have been able to sit if I dared to whine or say no! 

I remember going to Thrifty's to the ice cream counter and for 35 cents I could get an ice cream cone while my mom waited for her prescription. 

When it was my birthday I could go to 31 Flavors (now Baskin Robbins) and get a scoop of ice cream for 31 cents. 

I remember taking my $2 allowance for the month, and riding my bike to Grocery Outlet and getting a sack FULL of candy to last me the month! 

I remember when this odd new ice cream came out, no one knew what to make of it and I could buy Ben & Jerry's for $1 at Grocery Outlet! 

I remember the BEST lemon cookies were TruBlu! 

I remember getting slice of Checkerboard vanilla and orange sorbet ice cream, but only after mom decided if we should pry open the glued on top, or open one of the sides. 

I remember running around barefoot on the sidewalk and in the street when it must have been close to 100 degrees outside, yet I couldn't tell. 

It was the 'time of my life.' The time when I didn't have to worry about anything but doing what I was told so I didn't get my ass beat!