There are certain blog posts I struggle with, not because I have nothing to say, but because there is too much riding on getting it right. On Veterans Day, I wish to express the incredible gratitude and empathy I feel for military members and their families, and I feel intimidated by the need to say it all properly.
All day, while I turned over in my mind how I would approach tonight's blog, I stuck on the idea of sacrifice. Not just the ultimate sacrifice that some men and women have paid in service to their country, but all the little ones along the way, from the moment that they make their oaths. Life changes immeasurably from that moment on. Carefree young men and women become serious, responsibility for so many heavy concepts riding on their shoulders. They forfeit control over their own lives, and their own bodies. Under those conditions, it is difficult not to become hard, inside and out. And it is not only the military members who sacrifice. Spouses give up their own plans, to follow their soldier, airman, or sailor around the country (or around the world). It takes a special strength of purpose for a military spouse to manage to stay on a career path. More often than not, every time they move, they have to reinvent themselves, finding work wherever they can. Starting over means stepping back down the career ladder, losing seniority, frequently accepting only entry-level jobs, or sitting out of the job market altogether. Children sacrifice as well, attending a half-dozen schools or more over their young lives, always being the new kid in class, always getting to know a new home town. When their military mom or dad is deployed, they miss school plays, sports contests, awards ceremonies, and parent-teacher conferences. For four months, six months, sometimes a year or more at a time, the spouses at home are single parents, responsible for every hurt, every broken heart, every disciplinary action. Birthdays and holidays get missed. The routines at home change, while everyone learns how to work around the missing person. And then the military member comes home, and has to find out how to make themselves relevant at home again. I imagine hearing "We don't do it that way anymore" is difficult to hear, when they've spent months dreaming about the normalcy of home.
But for all the sacrifices, large and small, the military members and families I know (and I know an awful lot of them) have accepted the lifestyle with honor and dignity. They are the strongest people I know, and I have endless respect for them. I hope they know that.
I didn't know what picture to put in tonight. My phone took it upon itself to mess around with a few of my snow pictures this morning, so perhaps my best illustration will be the artsy shot of Murray the Deployment Dog, sitting on the cold ground, waiting for his daddy to come home.
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