I was allowed to read this today at a briefing. I am sharing it now with you.
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The Sisterhood
By Debby Guest
I am an Army Wife- a member of that sisterhood of women who are the courage to watch their men march into battle and the strength to survive until their return. Our sorority knows no rank for we earned our membership with a marriage license, traveling over miles or nations to begin a new life with our soldier husbands.
Within days we turn a barren, echoing building into a home, and through our quarters are inevitably white walled and un-papered, we decorate with the treasures of our travels for we shop the markets of the globe. Using hammer and nail, we tack our pictures to the wall and our roots to the floor as firmly as we had lived there for a lifetime. We hold a family together by bootstraps and raise the best of “brats”, instilling into them the motto, “Home is Togetherness” whether motel, or guesthouse, apartment or duplex.
As Army wives, we soon realize that the only good in “Good-bye” is the “Hello Again”. For as salesmen for freedom, our husbands are often on the road, leaving us behind for a week, a month, and assignment. During the separation we guard the home front, existing until the homecoming.
Unlike our civilian counterparts, we measure time, not by age but by tours- married at Knox, a baby born at Bliss, a promotion in Missouri. We plant trees but never see them grow tall, work on projects completed long around our departure, and enhance our community for the betterment of those who come after us. We leave a part of ourselves at every stop. Through experience we have learned to pack a suitcase, a car, or hold baggage and live indefinitely from the contents within; and though our fingers are sore from the patches we have sewn and the silver we have shined, our hands are always ready to help those around us.
Women of peace, we pray for a world of harmony, for the flag that leads our men into battle will also blanket them in death. Yet we are an optimistic group. Thinking of the good and forgetting the bad – cherishing yesterday while anticipating tomorrow.
Never rich by monetary standards, our hearts are overflowing with a wealth of experiences common only to those united by the special traditions of military life. We pass on this legacy to every Army bride, welcoming her with outstretched arms, with love and friendship, from one sister to another, sharing in the bounty our unique, fulfilling Army way of life.
When Dad's Away
Author Unknown
When dad's away, Mom's the Commanding Officer.
When Dad's home, Mom's the Executive Officer, coordinating and executing actions for the Command Team.
Keeping track of the kids, she's the S-1.
Collecting the neighborhood news and relaying it to Dad she's the S-3.
Stocking food supplies for the family she's the S-4.
She answers all the family correspondence and makes appointments for Dad; that makes her the Adjutant.
Worrying about the family budget makes her the Comptroller.
Paying the bills and accounting to Dad for the paychecks makes her Finance and Accounting Office.
Looking for a new place to live when we move, she's like a Billeting Officer.
Assigning us chores to do, getting us fed, bathed, and put to bed; she's our First Sergeant.
Serving the food and doing the dishes, she's on KP.
Carrying small children, she's an Ammunition Handler.
Driving the family to all our appointments she's a Duty Driver.
Cleaning the house and making the beds, she's an Orderly.
Looking like a queen when she goes out with Dad, She's a Soldier's Lady.
Doing all the things well, all the time, she's a true "Big Gunner!"
"GOSH! Mom's the whole Darned ARMY!"
When I Depart
By Susan Allen
When I depart will they know my life;
The life, that is, of the Army Wife?
Will they know I’m proud of what I have done
Of what I have seen, and where I have gone?
Will they know that I chose, I volunteered, to stand beside the one I hold dear?
My country asked me to give and to serve
In silent support… and without reserve.
Like the eagle above, I spread my wings;
Protected my home, and all that it means.
I stayed behind with fear that was deep,
And my private prayer… “That peace, please keep.”
The lyre of life is the music I play,
In harmony I’ve guided each day.
I balance my family, my friends… myself.
Tried to be faithful, and tried to help.
I quietly watched my family grow
The years have gone by… and what does it show?
Our work together will never be done.
I’ll always be there… our battles are one.
And where does hope find a home that is safe,
A home where duty has beauty and grace?
The answer’s clear when I look at my life,
It’s found in the heart of each Army Wife.
I recieved this today and wanted to share.
COMMENTS
Thats a good copy, over.
I'm going to copy this and send it out.. I know some people would get a kick out of it.
I love that:)
Yes I read Journals. I have several favorites and I select random ones to read as well.
I recently received some comments from people asking me why I do not comment in their journals.
It is really simple honest; sometimes there just really is nothing to say.
Sometimes I cannot think of the right words to express what I want to say in your journal so I don't say anything.
Sometimes I do not post anything because someone else, or several someone’s, have already said pretty much exactly what I would say.
Sometimes I do not post a response because I don't feel one is needed. The simple fact that I read your words should be, often times, enough for you.
I am not trying to be mean or cruel or uncaring, it is just that I do not feel any particular need to take away from what you have written by posting a response to it.
If that offends you then I am sorry. If you wish for me to stop reading your journal then by all means let me know. I may comply with your wishes and I may not.
Look I do not expect people to comment on my journal entries. You can if you want too or feel so inclined, Cancer made that option available to you.
COMMENTS
What about, "Sometimes I'm laughing my ass off so hard at you, I cant type?" O.o
Indeed it is an option therefore you choose to use it or you don't.
Bones: oops.. I forgot to mention that didn't I... Damn it... Sometimes it just hurts to read the words too, cause then I want to cry for the murder that was commited to the words.
Lord V : :D Absolutly!
Here is an update on the knitted Hats.
As of an hour ago, we finished hat number 50 of our 100 hat pledge for Joli's center.
Added more pictures, and all the descriptions to all pictures, this morning. I will do more as time allows.
COMMENTS
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LadyChordewa
20:19 Jul 25 2008
Silverbow
04:52 Jul 28 2008
Yep yep.
Debby Guest is a talented author, very expressive.