American Soldier

I was recently very touched by a blog I read that is kept by an american soldier. I can not post it here until I have his permission but will try to very soon. It did however, prompt me to write him an email, which I felt like posting here as well. This is what I wrote.


Dear American Soldier,


It is hard for me to put into words how I feel. But, regardless, I felt compelled to write you about your blog. I have enjoyed reading about how this all makes you feel. Your trials and tribulations, your emotions. It is always interesting to see other people's views, and who better to pay attention to then the men and women on the front lines.

I go to work every night (i'm a night manager at a truck stop, not a fab job, but it pays the bills) and everyday I come home while it is still dark out and let myself into my apartment where my three children and loving husband slumber in the darkness. It is cool in here, or warm, depending on the weather outside. I don't turn on the television. I can't stand all the depressing things they talk about. So instead, I move my mouse in the dark and silent living room and wait for my computer screen to light my way into sitting down and finding my keyboard. I go to the chat room I play in, speak to my best friend who lives and attends university in Australia, pretty soon I go to wake my children from their slumber so they can attend school. My daughter is in her first year at Junior high and she loves it. I pick up my youngest, who is four and I hold him close to me, breathing in his soft smell while he wraps his tiny arms around my neck. What a beautiful feeling that is. Then I check on my middle son, who is in the third grade, making sure he has everything he needs, that his work book is checked off by me and stop to kiss his cheek gently. Then I go back to my game online, which is really my choice of social interaction, while my older children set off for school and my youngest settles down to eat his breakfast. After a couple of hours of this, and answering the phone, taking care of whatever business I have to do for the day. I head into the room I share with my husband. Sometimes I simply lean against the door frame and watch him sleeping, the fan blowing on him so he can sleep better, before I go in and wake him up. Once I do, we lay there talking quietly about my night at work, I tell him my frustrations, the amusing stories, pretty much anything that is on my mind. It never takes long before my youngest realizes he has been left and toddles in to join us. My husband pretends once again to sleep so that his son will wake him up with kisses all over his cheeks and his declarations of "I LOVE YOU BESTEST DADDY!." When he finally does "wake up" again, they roll around on the bed, each on being tickled by the other until I join in to "save my son". When they get up, I remain in my bed, drifting off into my own peaceful slumber.By the time I wake up, my older children are home from school and are either working on homework, or chores. I get up and wander out to watch them unnoticed a moment, smiling softly at the serenity of my home. I kiss each of them as they rush to tell me "good morning" and one by one I ask them about their days. Then I go to my husband and repeat the process. Soon after, one of us heads in to make dinner, feed our children, and get their baths ready. After all is said and done, I tuck them in and go to get ready for work. My day begins again.

You are probably wondering why the rant to a man who is over in Iraq, fighting the war, seeing the horrible things you see. Let me tell you. I go through each phase of my day feeling safe and secure. Not terribly worried about whether my home with be bombed, or having to worry about whether I will be shot as I go to eat. I take each of these things for granted, and I am humbled by the words you write. I have never supported the war, but I have ALWAYS prayed and supported the men and women who went over there. From our country or another. Because it is your job, it is what you were asked to do and you stepped up to do it. I thank God for that, for I know I could not bring myself to do such a thing. I could not bear to have my husband do such a thing and so I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for having the courage, the drive, the love for all the unseen, unnamed, and unappreciative people you protect. I truly hope that you find your way home to your family safely. It is something I will pray for, as I will pray for your family to have the strength to be without you, so that so many can be safe from the horrors that are their lives.

A humbled civilian.



May each of us remembers, whether we agree with the war or not, that these men and women put their lives on the line everyday, and like us, they have husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters who will have to be without them. Never say that our troops do not deserve our support. They deserve it most.

Blah

Must be nearly that time of the month again. I'm feeling very blah, current situations not helping me alot.
I wish people would say what they mean and mean what they say. It would make life so much easier.

I miss my online family. I'm always working, or sleeping. If I can manage to get here, they are busy. Seems life moves on without me. Oh yes, this is not a suprise to me. Guess what suprises me is how easily it does move on without me. Would anyone miss me if I were not here? Would they be sad? Would they think of me? Then I have to ask myself. Does it matter? The things I do in this life. Where they important to anyone?

I hate this time of the month. My emotions are alway so close to the surface. I just want to cry now. For no reason really. I mean, so he had other things to do. He has his life, I have mine. As does she. Why is this eating away at me so much? Maybe it's because I get up and rush to the computer, eager to see them, talk to them, make them laugh, or comfort them if needed. I don't feel very needed lately. I'm sure that will pass as soon as my period does too. Maybe my mother was right, maybe I need people to much. Smother them.

I can see as I reread this that I am not making alot of sense, so I guess I'll go for now, maybe later my words will make more sense to me.