Saturday Morning

On this gorgeous Saturday morning Clay is sleeping while I am working on a paper in the guest room/office/library/linen closest/Army storage unit/room we don’t speak of. The coffee I am sipping is robust, soothing and alive while my headphones play a mix of Blink 182 and Vivaldi. He is home. I still can’t believe he is home…he is actually here, in our home, sleeping in the next room.

During the deployment I spent countless Saturday mornings writing, completing schoolwork, watching TV, driving to unnamed destinations, and cleaning already clean surfaces…just doing anything to keep my mind off the fact that my husband was gone and his life (my life) was out of my control. The fact I can sit here, working on a paper without have that worry struggling to consume my everyday life is absolutely wonderful.

However, the feeling of wonderfulness does not come without a price. Guilt. Every military family feels guilt at some point…how could we not? Here I am, shouting from rooftops how happy I am while thousands of families are walking through life with holes left unfilled…their husband/father/son/wife/mother/daughter did not make it home. I am not going to lie, it is hard, very hard. What do you say to the family left behind? Over the past year, I have followed two extraordinary woman who write about the aftermath surrounding the event of losing a husband in war…Learning to Live and Life After Iraq. Somehow, just by reading their stories I feel that I am helping to keep the memory of their husbands alive and letting them know that I care and not a day goes by that I don’t think about the members of The Gold Star Wives.

After giving my sleeping husband a kiss and telling him that I love him, I am going to get back to my schoolwork knowing that for this moment, everything is okay.

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