Military Wives

I came across this poem by John Wills a while ago and wanted to share it on this blog. It's difficult for most of us not associated with the military to imagine what spouses go through emotionally while their significant other is deployed. I grew up an Army Brat and married a soldier so I have had my fair share of separation experiences. I know it may seem a bit cheesy but I ask that you read this poem and remember the thousands of spouses who today bear the burden of raising children and taking care of their homes alone while their husband or wife is thousands of miles away in a war zone. (If you have a friend who is a spouse of someone who is deployed, offer to babysit their kids, give an ear for listening, or mow their lawn. Chances are their pride will keep them from asking for any favors but the appreciation is HUGE.) My family's experience is thankfully over (for now) but it's important to keep in mind those who still experience this today. This poem is about wives but I post it here in honor of all military spouses, especially those who have lost a loved one. God Bless.

THE MILITARY WIFE

The good Lord was creating a model for Military wives and was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared. She said: “Lord, you seem to be 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? She has to be completely independent, possess the qualities of both father, and mother, be a perfect hostess to four or forty with an hour’s notice, run on black coffee, handle every emergency imaginable without a manual, be able to carry on cheerfully, even if she is pregnant and has the flu, and she must be willing to move to a new location ten times in seventeen years. And oh, yes, she must have six pairs of hands.”

The angel shook her head, “Six pairs of hands? No way.”

The Lord continued, “ Don’t worry, we will make other Military wives to help her. And we will give her an unusually strong heart so it can swell with pride in her husband’s achievements, sustain the pain of separations, beat soundly when it is overworked and tired, and be large enough to say, “I understand’ when she doesn’t, and say ‘I love you,’ regardless.”

“Lord,” said the angel, touching his arm gently, “Go to bed and get some rest. You can finish tomorrow.”

“I can’t stop now,” the Lord said, “I am so close to creating something unique. Already this model heals herself when she is sick, can put up six unexpected guests for the weekend, wave goodbye to her husband from a pier, a runway, or a depot, and understand why it’s important that he leave.”

The angel circled the model of the Military wife, looked at it closely and sighed, “It looks fine, but it’s too soft.”

“She might look soft,” replied the Lord, “but she has the strength of a lion. You would not believe what she can endure.”

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Lord’s creation. “There’s a leak,” she announced. “Something is wrong with the construction. I am not surprised that it has cracked. You are trying to put too much into this model.”

The Lord appeared offended at the angel’s lack of confidence. “What you see is not a leak,” He said. “It’s a tear.”

“A tear? What is it there for?” asked the angel.

The Lord replied, “It’s for joy, sadness, pain, disappointment, loneliness, pride, and dedication to all the values that she and her husband hold dear.”

“You are a genius!” exclaimed the angel.

The Lord looked puzzled and replied, “I didn’t put it there.”