I am an Army wife.
I complain about boots left in the living room but then I remember one day those boots will have to leave.
I hang the same pictures every three years but I do it on different walls.
I can open the pickle jar but I have him do it when he’s here.
I tear up when I see a blue star banner or a yellow ribbon around a tree but I know the pride that comes with them.
I cry for fallen soldiers I did not know and pray for wives I’ll never meet but they would do the same for me.
I’m not afraid of the night but I’m terrified of the darkness that steals into his dreams and causes him to wake in a sweat.
I may not know my zip code or which road leads to my house but I have the ultimate understanding of home.
I know chocolate doesn’t go in a care package but it doesn’t matter because candy bars aren’t what he’ll miss the most.
I’m not supposed to hold his hand or grab his butt in uniform but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to.
I don’t salute the flag like he does but I love it just as much.
I know the military alphabet but military time still slows me down.
I’m strong enough to send him to war but that doesn’t mean I want to.
I have no family here but I’m surrounded by”sisters” .
I look forward to long weekends but I know Memorial Day is much more than just the start of summer.
I don’t know the exact meaning of “Hooah” but I know exactly when to use it.
I’m not a hero but I’m lucky enough to be married to one.
I am an Army wife but most importantly I am his wife.