Army Wife Crap

I assume that all “active duty family members”, or ADFMs, as we are known, think about this in passing. I mean, it has to at least cross the minds of girl/boyfriends, spouses, parents, whomever. I certainly don’t consider myself to be unique in this regard. Don’t get me wrong, I am not a pessimist. I fully expect my warrior husband to return triumphantly in due time, battered duffel in hand, appropriately sheepish grin in place (“Sorry I had to do this babe. But glad I did, all the same.”). But at the same time, I feel certain that I need to be prepared for any eventuality.

In my mind, this story is always about The Car. It catches me unexpectedly, in quiet, normal moments; takes my breath and the normalcy away. I am chopping carrots in the kitchen and the dogs bark at a noise from the street. Is The Car out front? We are walking home from the park down the street. As the front yard comes in view, my breath catches in my throat and I wonder if I will see The Car in our driveway when I round the corner.

The story almost always includes a flag, too: “As they ease the sedan to the curb, he notices the flag pole in the front yard, and the flower bed planted with yellow and pink rosebushes. The flag snaps in the breeze, its pop catching him by surprise as he steps out of the passenger side and adjusts his coat. He flinches involuntarily, squinting at it against the late afternoon sun. He takes a deep breath, sets his hat straight, and strides toward the front door.”

Tracy has always wanted a flag in the front yard (“a federal area”) and I intend to create one for him while he is away. But somehow I suspect that I may wait until he returns to run up the Colors.