Where's my ribbon?

I had an absolutely lovely four-hour lunch (you read that right) with a dear friend this week.  We set the goal of lunching monthly (which cuts our lunches down to only two hours), but it just didn't happen last month. So this month, we had even more to say. 

Her husband is retired. I am looking forward to disposing of all that Army stuff we have accumulated over the last too-many years. It's nice to have someone ahead of you on the road you are travelling. We discussed our husbands' jobs and kids and so forth. We discussed our own (lack of) careers and the roadblocks placed in the path to most careers just because you are Mrs. Soldier.

My friend is an amazing woman. She is a military brat AND a military wife.  She moved every 24-36 months until she was 40. WOW. Talk about a tough transition when her husband hung up the uniform.  She truly NEVER knew another way to live. I can look back on my childhood, and while we moved around NYC a little bit and had a few school changes, it was nothing like the experiences of a military kid.  She's my hero. She joked about waiting for a plaque recognizing the 40 years she gave the military.

But she's right. She served. Just like I serve.

I serve by waiting. I serve by living in a place without becoming part of it, because I already have my eye on the next move.  I serve by fighting with the transportation office, armed only with my POA and a NY accent that erupts when I'm ticked off, to set up a move so he doesn't have to.  I serve by mailing him an endless stream of boxes, so much so that the post office people know me. I serve by trying to be both parents, even though I know it is a futile effort.

I serve by sending MY husband, while most of America stays home. 

And my kids.... Hell, at least I chose this. This is their inheritance. Duty, Honor, Country, and a helping of Selfless Service on the side.

So, tonight, I lift my late-night glass of fabulous Italian wine to my compatriots-  my fellow spouses and our kids.  We get no retirements, no ribbons, no titles. We sacrifice our education, jobs, friends, homes and sanity.

Cheers to you. You are pillars of the nation, keeping it strong. Like the supports on a bridge, taken for granted that we will hold and always be there.  But I know your sacrifice. Maybe one day, all of America will.