In His Shoes

In the two weeks leading up to the Christmas holiday, when Scott and I were separated, I had the heaviest feeling of sadness come over me. I missed him something terrible, yes, but it was something deeper than that. After organizing my thoughts and emotions, I realized that my heart was absolutely stunned and broken over the fact that next Christmas he would be missing everything.

The shopping for Eliza, the parties, the decorating, admiring the tree by the warmth of the fire, the annual Christmas movies. He’ll be missing it all. My heart ached at every little thing I saw that reminded me of him -- our old condo, the opera house where we had our wedding, the places we love to dine.

Then it hit me how incredibly selfish I was being. My wonderful husband who gave me such encouraging and supportive words as I whined about him missing everything never once mentioned how he would feel during his absence. As I cried over having to wake up in our house on Christmas morning and watch Eliza open her gifts without him, he never brought up how he would be feeling, on a ship, in the middle of the ocean with no family to be seen or even heard. As I asked who would take me out for my birthday dinner, upset that I would be missing a night out on the town with my husband, he never came back with a ‘Well, what about my birthday’, or the like. Or when I was sad over having to do Eliza’s second birthday party without him by my side, he didn’t say a peep about how he would miss Eliza’s day-to-day for nine whole months.  He simply consoled me and offered warm words of comfort.  Once I put myself in his shoes, I began to feel completely different about the whole situation.

It’s going to hurt like hell for us when we watch that ship pull away this spring, but not nearly as much as it’s going to hurt him. He’ll have twice the pain, for he’ll be missing both of his girls. I know that he would do anything to be with us everyday -- tantrums, teething, crankiness (and I'm, unfortunately, not just talking about Eliza here) and all. He’s just that kind of guy. He loves his family more than anything in this world.

But that’s why he does it -- that’s why he sacrifices nine months at a time with us. So that he can selflessly protect us with all of his might. And not only does he do it for us, but he does it for his pride and love for our country. His job is one of the most thankless but he does it anyway. There are times when his pay is messed up and he’s never compensated, but he continues to work. He has to wake up at 4:15am and won’t get home most days in enough time to even see Eliza, but he doesn’t complain.

I suppose the poor guy thinks that I do enough complaining for the two of us. Regardless, we’re so appreciative, thankful and grateful for his job, as it has been incredibly good to us. As hard as times can get being a part of the military family, we’re proud to be a part of it.

We’re happy that those shoes of his are part of that unmistakable uniform that represents honor, pride, integrity and freedom.

And, more importantly that, eventually, those shoes always come home to us.