Because Not Every Ribbon Saw Their Soldier Come Home

Well, tomorrow is Remembrance Day and once again I find myself in a place of reflection.

Dh is home, he just got home this weekend.  He’s here for a week, give or take.  And I’m enjoying having him there, even if it’s just sitting on the couch behind me shining his boots.

Today at church, there was a moment of silence and a video of our church families service to commemorate tomorrow’s importance.  Watching Dh’s pictures flash for all three deployments, the truth of my feelings each Remembrance Day were clear.

Three deployments.  3 times I said goodbye and he got on that plane.
All three times he came home.  In one piece.  To me, who had been waiting,

Home.  With me.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen on movies or TV, where the soldier writes a letter to his spouses before he heads into harms way, saying all the things he needs her to know?
I had always assumed Dh had one of those, he just hadn’t told me, and I have by the grace of God, never had to read it.

But I learned a while ago there had never been a letter.

Not that Dh had never been in danger, in fact, he has been more than I’m sure I will ever know.  Or want to know.

But Dh’s philosophy has been that his goal is to live his time with us in a way that if something were to happen to him, he would have nothing he had left unsaid.

At first this made me mad, I mean, I would have nothing to hold on to.

But over time, it came to be the most romantic thing I had ever heard him say.

More than many people, Dh knows that time is short and life is precious.
Dh has carried his friends onto that plane for their final trip home.

And he’s done so knowing they were only there a short time, while he was on his 3rd deployment.
He’s faced that feeling of knowing there is no way of knowing when your time will come, or whether or not it will seem fair.

So Dh made a commitment to himself that he would spend his days with us leaving nothing left unsaid.

Remembrance Day is a moment that we focus on something many soldiers and their families, including Dh, think of each and every time they put on their uniform.

That not every soldier has come home.

And we owe their memory a debt of gratitude.

There were letters read and families left behind.  From WWI to today, we owe them to live our entire lives, not just an hour tomorrow morning, knowing truly, how blessed we are.

Today, as I stand in church feeling grateful that Dh is standing with me for the first time in months,  I hear his Blackberry vibrate and he makes that face at the screen before he heads out to the foyer to take a call, I remember that as much as this life irks me some days, I am blessed by each and every moment he spends with us.

And when he comes back in shoving the phone back in his pocket and he gives me a half smile before slipping his hand over mine and leaning over to tell me how beautiful he thinks I look in my dress, I can’t help but smile to know he will always tell me everything he needs me to hear.

May we all live like that.  Tomorrow and every day. 

Lest We Forget

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