My Veteran

I really wanted to write something for Veteran's day this year, but quite frankly, I feel like nothing I write will top my Veteran's Day post from last year.
It's my favorite post I've ever written.
So I'm posting it again.

There's probably some unwritten blog rule that says you can't recycle posts, but I don't even care.
Cause I love this post so much.
And I love my husband so much.

And I love our military, and our country, and our service men and women that stand on the front lines everyday to protect our homeland and our freedom.
My heart overflows with joy when I think about these people, our country, my husband.
And it's from the bottom of my heart when I say thank you. When we, as a country, say thank you.

.....................................

Today we celebrate Veteran's Day.

My husband is a veteran: 

Operation Iraqi Freedom/Operation Enduring Freedom from 2007-08.

A couple weekends ago I went to the Eric Church concert.

I know you're probably thinking "and these two go together, how??" but stay with me...

At the Eric Church concert he sang his song "These Boots," and if you haven't heard it...google it.

But he sings about his pair of boots and all the places they've been, and what they've seen over the years, and it got me to thinking about my husband's boots.

His Army boots.

And all the places they've been and things they've seen.

Those boots were laced up every morning for over a year, to run missions all day that lasted well into the night, often times through the night. 

They carried an extra 100+ pounds of gear, and withstood the heat of the Iraqi summers.

Those boots have been dusted with the sands of Tikrit and the dirt of Mosul.

They've walked along the gravel near the Tigress River.

And they sat crammed next to bunch of other boots on a C-130 for hours to get there.

Those boots stood next to both Iraqi forces, and young locals; 

all in the name of a better Iraq.

Those boots spent Thanksgiving and Christmas, and rang in the new year overseas.

Those boots were there, on the floor of Saddam Hussein's mother's palace, when Nate was planning our engagement.

  

Those boots have seen a lot, heard a lot; most of which, I'll never know.

But those boots came home on the feet of my husband...alive and in one piece.

These days, those boots spend their time in the mountains of Arizona, chasing deer and elk, and anything else that has four legs. 

But they come back home at the end of each day.

Just as they should.

Thank you to all those who have served, and are currently serving our Country over seas.

"Honor the fallen, thank the living"

My favorite soldier

Inside Combat Rescue

Let’s get serious today.

I don’t really like serious things…they make me uncomfortable.

But I’m gonna do it anyway.

Has anyone seen this show?

The hubs and I watched it last night; it was the last episode in a mini-series of six.

The show follows an elite team of pararescuers and their efforts to save lives of inured American soldiers during combat.

I’ve watched a lot of specials, and TV shows, and documentaries about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but this one hit me differently. …and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

I’ve been thinking about it because all those soldiers and pararescuers, they looked like my husband.

Buzzed haircut, no facial hair, the black sport watch on the left wrist, a tan shirt with digital ACU pants, and a camouflage hat with a dark green Velcro patch of the American flag on the front, with a pair of Oakley sunglasses resting on the brim.

My husband looks like that.

They talked over the radio with specific instruction, no questions, no inflection in their voice except for an assurance that’s evident they were always in control.

Never a hint of panic.

My husband sounds like that.

See, Nate spent over a year in Iraq with the U.S. Army. I’ve known my husband since the 4th grade, and he’s never been far. We lived a few blocks down from each other, went to church together, and went to school together. I’ve always had an idea of what his life looked like, and sounded like, and what his daily routines were…except for those 15 months he was in Iraq.

I know everything about my husband, except for what his life was like for 15 months while he was overseas.

I never asked what it was like while he was in country, cause I didn’t want to know, and he never said much cause he didn’t want me to worry.

But this show, there was something about this show that was very real; there were no special effects, no dramatic music, nor was it edited in a way that cut from scene to scene – instead, it followed the pararescuers from the time they got a call, flew the helicopter to the scene, loaded the injured and worked on them while in transit, and delivered them to the hospital all within the “Golden Hour”. We even watched as a triple amputee who’d just been blown up by an IED moments before, passed away on the operating table, and the doctor checked the clock for his time of death.

We watched an injured medic be loaded onto the helicopter and his buddies kissed him on the forehead in case they never saw him again.

It was as if I was there, watching in real time.

…and I kept picturing Nate there.

I kept wondering if that’s what his life looked like while he was there.

I wondered how many times he’d waited in the dirt, next to a blown up Humvee for help to arrive for an injured friend, just like what we watched on the TV.

I wondered how many times he flew in a helicopter. Or when he did, if he ever sat right near the edge with his leg dangling out, like the pararescuers did.

I wondered how much sleep he got, or what time he woke up and went to bed, or if he ever had bags under his eyes like some of those soldiers did.

I wondered if it would’ve been easier if we had Skype when Nate was deployed.

I wonder about all these things, and then I look over and he’s sitting next to me on the

couch…and it’s weird.

It’s weird cause he’s the same Nate.

But I know he was a different Nate when he was gone from me.

But I don’t know how he was different. I never saw it.

It probably doesn’t make sense, written out like this. But in my head, it does.

Nate hates when I talk about his service, and if he reads this post he’ll probably give me the stink-eye.

But whatevs. I’m proud of him and I think he deserves credit.

And I think all service members deserve credit.

A lot of credit.

And I think if you ever have the chance, you should try and watch this show, Inside Combat Rescue. You may have a new perspective, it might be more real for you too.

Alright.

That was heavy.

Enough seriousness for today.

.........................................

“Honor the fallen, thank the living.”



Veteran's Day

This weekend we celebrated Veteran's Day.

My husband is a veteran: 

Operation Iraqi Freedom/Operation Enduring Freedom from 2007-08.

A couple weekends ago I went to the Eric Church concert.

I know you're probably thinking "and these two go together, how??" but stay with me...

At the Eric Church concert he sang his song "These Boots," and if you haven't heard it...google it.

But he sings about his pair of boots and all the places they've been, and what they've seen over the years, and it got me to thinking about my husband's boots.

His Army boots.

And all the places they've been and things they've seen.

Those boots were laced up every morning for over a year, to run missions all day that lasted well into the night, often times through the night. 

They carried an extra 100+ pounds of gear, and withstood the heat of the Iraqi summers.

Those boots have been dusted with the sands of Tikrit and the dirt of Mosul.

They've walked along the gravel near the Tigress River.

And they sat crammed next to bunch of other boots on a C-130 for hours to get there.

Those boots stood next to both Iraqi forces, and young locals; 

all in the name of a better Iraq.

Those boots spent Thanksgiving and Christmas, and rang in the new year overseas.

Those boots were there, on the floor of Saddam Hussein's mother's palace, when Nate was planning our engagement.

  

Those boots have seen a lot, heard a lot; most of which, I'll never know.

But those boots came home on the feet of my husband...alive and in one piece.

These days, those boots spend their time in the mountains of Arizona, chasing deer and elk, and anything else that has four legs. 

But they come back home at the end of each day.

Just as they should.

Thank you to all those who have served, and are currently serving our Country over seas.

"Honor the fallen, thank the living"

My favorite soldier

That One Time I Opened My Husband's Mail

Question:

Does it make me a bad wife that I opened my husband's mail?

...Lemme back up..

Last week there were two packages that came in the mail addressed to my husband. Since he was out of town and wasn't gonna be home for a few days, and because I'm nosy and curious and selfish, and didn't want to wait until he got home to find out what was in it and why he was getting packages and not me...I decided to open them.

In it I found a bunch of snacks and goodies for Nate...and a couple cards thanking him for his service to our country and for being a U.S. Soldier.

Well shoot.

Now I look pretty bad. 

It's nice to know people are thinking about our troops on just a regular day. Not Veteran's day, not Memorial day, not the 4th of July...just a regular day.

And it's nice to know there are wives out there that intercept these packages and open them before their veteran husband, whom they're addressed to, can get to them. 

I'm thinking I might lose some votes in my campaign for Military Spouse of the year on this one.