It’s hard to find the beauty in being married to a man that is married to his country
I wake up each day in a half empty bed with the sheets tangled between my legs
Every Sunday I receive a letter saying, “ill be home soon”
And each time I read it my heart begs for you
I open the curtain to this daunting home that the outsiders call “base”
It’s a lot like baseball some hit a home run and make it home safe
My husband is married to his country a commitment so true
Still I fear the day when the knock on my door is from the soldiers and not you
A risk every time I open the door
My heart races a mile a minute and my teardrops fall to the floor
But today is the day the knock is from you
My husband a man with blonde hair, a chiseled chin and eyes so blue.
A man who cannot not promise his day because his country might call and take him away
But a man who promises to keep me safe, day by day I wait.
We head to the dinner on this warm Sunday morning; we sit and talk over coffee
You tell me our new plans and how we are moving to a new place.
I pace back and forth letting my mind wander
As I dream of a place with fields of sheer pink and dandelion weeds
I repeat to myself “I love this man each day he makes my heart grow fonder”
I take a step back and realize I’m married to a soldier
A man married to his country a man, with the weight of the world on his shoulders.