The Price We Pay
by Twila D
I had admired him from afar. At last he had noticed me. Already I was planning the wonderful summer we would have together. Then he turned to me and said, “I leave for Basic Training next week.” Thus began my life with a military man. The day after our honeymoon he left for training. In the picture from our first anniversary I am holding a sign that reads: ALONE. That says it all. It was the first of many lonely anniversaries. It is the price of being a military wife. When our youngest son was only 2 years old, my husband was sent over seas. My son cried himself to sleep every night, asking pitifully for his daddy. When my husband did return home 9 months later, our son ignored him. It is the price of being a military parent. This year my children and I spent the holidays alone, as did my husband, who was serving, once again, far from home. It is the price of being a military family. Anything of value does not come cheaply. When I see my husband in uniform, I am filled with pride that he has chosen to serve his country. The sight of that uniform is not just about the man I love. Behind that uniform stand many other spouses who have spent the holidays alone, many other little children who have missed their daddies, and many other brave men and women who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom. The uniform my husband wears represents sacrifice, service, and patriotism. The price of freedom is high. I am thankful for my Air Force life. It has helped me to better understand the cost and to be more thankful for those who have paid it.